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thelightningthatjumpsbetween · 11 months

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Twenty Six

RE8 | Wintersberg | Romance, Slow Burn | Action, Sci-Fi

Sequel of Winters and the Beast, a Resident Evil: Village Story

Table Of Contents

Karl was focused intently on Maricara. Behind her, the daughters were cooking–meatball soup–and it smelled absolutely delicious. He had to fight both his intense instinct to salivate over the scent, and the noise in his addled brain to concentrate on her words. He had not ever mastered the Romani language, and the older woman spoke quickly. But he was content to listen, until two resounding crashes came from the master bedroom across the manor.

Everyone in the kitchen area paused; Karl turned to look over his shoulder down the long hallway. Rose had been methodically climbing up Karl’s legs and torso, an endeavor he was helping her with by holding her securely. Now she too turned with him, hanging upside down from the crook of his elbow.

After the loud crashes came raucous laughter–was that ETHAN laughing? And another voice–high pitched, fairylike–Eva? Rose spoke with her arms still flailing over her head. “Dada.” She babbled, then continued. “Eba. Uh oh!”

“Yeah, sounds like it,” Karl answered, pulling her upright and heading down the hallway. Several other loud crashes sounded as Karl’s boots thudded loudly on the wood. His heart rate had increased, he realized, but how could he think there was danger with the shrieks of laughter that still sounded? Maricara was rapid on his heels after the second crash.

“Jesus, Winters, can’t do anything the easy way, not even grieve,” Karl growled, the incessant worry growing as he approached the room. With Rose perched on one arm he pulled the heavy wooden door open. Whatever Karl had expected to see, he was doubly confused at the sight of both blonds taking turns propping each other up, trying to stand, while Donna sat quizzically behind them holding a golden dish.

At the sight of Karl, Rose, and Maricara in the doorway, the pair laughed even harder, now both sliding down the large bedpost and collapsing over plush carpet. The Roma woman muttered something in her own language, but she was smiling behind her hand. When Karl looked skeptically at her, she shrugged as if to say, Let them enjoy themselves.

“Uh oh!” Ethan jeered, and then mimicked the sound of Heisenberg’s loud, stomping footsteps across the floor by kicking his feet. “HE ARRIVES.”

Eva was trying not to cackle, and failing; she clapped her hand over her mouth. Shockingly, the laugh reminded Karl of Miranda, but he ignored the unpleasantness, exhaling through his nostrils as he tried to calm.

Karl rolled his eyes and looked at Donna expectantly. She shrugged, holding out the bowl, and said in a timid voice, “They…drank this, disappeared for only a moment, then reappeared.” Her shoulders were at her ears. She looked down into the bowl, and then exclaimed a surprised, “Oh!”

“What? What is that?” Karl ignored the pile of limbs on the floor and stepped toward her, peering into an empty bowl.

“It had liquid in it, I swear! It was just there!”

“Uh oh!” Rose repeated.

Heisenberg studied Donna’s clearly confused face, and then turned back toward Maricara, handing over the toddler. “Here, take Rose, go ahead and finish what you were doing, I’ll handle these idiots.”

Ethan made a noise as though he would argue, but then fell back again holding his stomach. “Oh please. Handle me. As if–if-”

“What did you drink? Do you know?” He stared down at the pair. Donna shrugged helplessly, and Eva faltered, looking as if she were thinking hard.

“wHaT dId YoU dRiNk?” Ethan echoed, mimicking Karl’s accent. Eva again tried not to laugh, this time putting both hands over her mouth as Ethan’s Karl-rumble increased in volume. “I’m A LORRRRD, ETHAN. ANSWER ME.”

Karl knelt and pulled an old pen light from his belt; he rarely used it for its intended purpose, instead relying on it as a regular flashlight since his multicolor had broken years ago. Now he got close–very close–to Ethan, trying to place any scents. There was a faint smell of wine on the blond’s breath, but nothing staggering. He did smell of something else–earth? Karl sniffed again, his nostrils flaring.

Ethan leaned forward and sniffed back, and then he and Eva dissolved into laughter again, sniffing each other.

Karl said simply, “Hold still.” He passed the light over their gazes as the two fidgeted against it, and Eva finally managed, “We-it was-from, it’s safe.”

“Oh don’t tell him, I like when he pretends to care,” Ethan snapped, and Karl frowned.

“Don’t tell me what?”

Ethan put a finger over his lips and made a loud SHHHHHH at Eva, but she persisted.

“The drink came from the Mold, it was Godric,” Eva fumbled and finished, finally able to make words, and she sighed happily as if finishing this sentence was her life’s work. “Godric,” she echoed, and Ethan nodded. “Godric.”

Their pupils were blown; Karl shook his head as he went back to his feet.

“Are we gonna make it, doc?” Ethan’s faux-fear carried them through another peal of giggles, and then continued to Eva’s roars of laughter, “OH GOD, I’M MADE OF MOLD?”

Curious that someone from any mold realm could make liquid appear; he’d never heard of such a thing. Donna’s hallucinations were just that, not tangible things that could be ingested, and so he was curious about this ‘drink’. Karl held out his hand for the bowl. Donna seemed relieved to hand it to him and he studied it; completely empty, no traces of fluid. Donna was also stuttering and apologizing, as if she knew how it looked, but he had no doubt that she was innocent. He felt a faint humor as he handled the plate, as though someone were watching him and laughing.

The laughter coming from Ethan and Eva reminded him of mushrooms, if anything, and maybe the earthen smell spoke to the same. Karl had been close enough to sense their vitals: all elevated, but within normal range. They were stupid, but likely not in any physical danger. Thus this situation didn’t smell of Miranda. She had never done anything fun, even accidentally, in the decades he’d known her. If she were to make a liquid appear in a place where these two morons were likely to drink it, it would absolutely be poison.

“Donna,” he sighed over the pair on the floor, “Could you help Eva get up and to her room? Bring some tea or somethin’. We’ll just wait it out.”

“Ooooh, tea,” Eva sighed, and now clambered up Karl’s leg and torso exactly as Rose had earlier. Karl braced himself to help pull her, not that she was very strong or heavy, and passed her to Donna. When Eva leaned happily on the other woman, she said in a slurred whisper, speaking Romanian, “Ghici ce? Karl are un frate….As putea... te intereseaza?”

Donna turned furiously pink and Ethan bark-laughed from the floor. “Did you say Karl has a brother?”

“Gold star, Winters,” Karl growled, pushing both of the women out the door with one final apologetic look at Donna, who was already giggling as Eva continued to pitch date ideas. The engineer spun on a heel and surveyed Ethan, who now smiled a very heavy-lidded smile and slouched against the bed frame. He sighed, closing his eyes as Karl moved to help him upright.

“Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

“You’re annoyed.”

“I’m always annoyed.”

“Why?”

Karl hauled Ethan to an upright position, which was much harder to orchestrate than the same maneuver with Eva. The blond was dead weight on him, but finally Karl managed to help him teeter on his long legs. Ethan finally looked at him directly, a smile falling over his almost-girlish lips, and he leaned into Karl’s face.

Karl considered the answer, and raised an eyebrow. “All that rantin’ I did in the factory and you weren’t listenin?”

“Godric isn’t ever annoyed and he’s had a way worse time,” Ethan mused, looking as though he’d fall asleep. Karl was inching them toward the bed in a way that he could just shove the blond onto it and not worry about him falling off.

“Good for him.”

“He helped somebody escape the village. Why didn’t you help me escape the village? You took me right to Miranda,” Ethan’s eyes were still closed, and he was fighting the subtle pushes that worked a moment ago. Finally the hazel eyes wrenched open. “Wait…why did you do that?”

Karl sighed. “You really want the truth right now? When you’re like this?”

Ethan was still, his expression intense, no longer lackadaisical or amused. His brow straightened. “I always want the truth.”

The engineer gave up with the pushing idea and instead sat them both down on the edge of the bed, where Ethan now pulled away and hugged the bedpost again. He had no right to look that good while pouting, not at all. Karl rolled his eyes again.

“Few reasons, one, I was tryin’ not to blow my own cover. Two, I wanted to see…” Karl cringed. “Wanted to see if you were anything like Miranda said. Wasn’t sure. You were a wild card in the middle of a deck caught in a tornado. She spent the whole day before you came settin’ lycans out, massive killin’ spree as a sacrifice. I made up my mind that death was better for everybody. Been waitin’ on that for years…..You weren’t supposed to survive.” Heisenberg shrugged. “I helped you though, once I knew you were…”

He trailed off.

Ethan’s glare was full of confusion and some misplaced rage.

Karl met the glare stoically, blinking at the blond.

“That is so fucked up,” Ethan finally managed. “That is so mean.”

“That’s me, mean,” Karl agreed, preparing to stand, but Ethan pulled him back with long, dead-weight arms.

“I like that you don’t lie to me.”

“Uhhh.”

“Why won’t you marry me? Is it the marriage part, or is it the me part?” Ethan’s grip on Karl was so strong that it surprised the engineer; he’d never known Ethan to possess superhuman strength beyond the normal ‘adrenaline’ range, but now he couldn’t wrench away. His ears were already burning, but Karl felt red flood his entire face and he fumbled again with Ethan’s hands before giving up and sighing.

“You’re not in a good, uh, state of mind for these questions,” Heisenberg pointed out.

Ethan pouted again. “And I bet you won’t kiss me either.”

“Don’t want you callin’ me mean anymore,” Karl joked and then sighed, putting his hand over one of Ethan’s. “I’m glad that my dumbass family member in the mold world gave you somethin’ for the nerves and the sadness, so just enjoy the time and don’t try to figure out the universe right now, Ethan. The pain’ll come back, maybe you’ll be able to deal with it better after havin’ a break.”

“Fine., but you’ll come back?”

“Always, Ethan.”

When the taller man’s eyes welled up with tears, Heisenberg doubled his efforts in getting out of the grip, twisting his own arm. Useless effort; Ethan was incredibly strong. Heisenberg pulled a few more times, ignoring the loving stare etched across Ethan's face. With a grimace, the brunette supplied, “I’ll...uh, bring you food, how’s that, Papa?”

Ethan relented, loosening his grip. Karl finally stood, sighing in relief, ready like never before for a cigar. As the engineer prepared to leave, Ethan curled up in the bed, inhaling deeply at the sheets that smelled like Karl; this had after all, been his room. When Heisenberg was at the door, he turned back to see the shock of blond hair peeking out from the blankets, as well as the other’s unfocused stare on him.

“It’s good to hear you laugh,” Heisenberg said in a low mumble, before quickly exiting, leaving Ethan to smile and then giggle by himself in the quiet room.

#ethan winters #karl heisenberg #wintersberg #heisenwinters #resident evil village

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oraculumx · 1 year

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where. Necromanteion who. Bastien, Pythia, a Dahlia initiate notes. the prompt

The blade glinted in the dimming light as the knife had been extracted from the depths of its holster, fastened tight to the witch’s form upon every moment. Hands marred with the products of what had come so naturally to the oracle were no longer the victims of the sharpened edge, for he had found his magic within the entrails of humans and creatures alike. One such mortal, a precious initiate for one of the remaining covens within the city had been forced to the harsh ground of the stoned room, forced to remain on their knees as Bastien stood behind them. The request still whispered along the shell of his ears, to call forth the three sisters and force their hand of the vision that they could show him.

Another flash of light from the steel of the blade as it moved through the air, drawn tight against the quivering witch’s throat as the pleas resounded louder and louder within the barren room. Save for the Necronomicon, settled upon it’s stone throne, hungry for the blood that had been promised to it. Words of a spell soon mingled with the pleas and begs of the innocent one, chanted louder and louder until the magic had begun to swirl around them. The cries for mercy, for compassion were lost upon the ears of the oracle as the light caught once more before blood splattered against the grey stone of Necromanteion, and the infernal book that devoured the soul it had been offered.

The blood of the sacrificed bled into the stone beneath him, before the spell took effect and it once more rose to swirl around him. A soft smirk touched the lips of the oracle as the body of the departed was cast aside, abandoned so that he may be welcomed into the vision that beckoned him forward. That drew him into its embrace so that he may reach out for the threads spun, so that he may draw them towards him. To force the strings of the Graeae and their hands.

It felt like paradise, a holy ground that seemed to cry at his every step, as he brought himself further and further into its sanctuary. Hands lifted as fingers danced in the wind, as if he played along to the melody of cries from those that had never cast their gazes upon such evil. As if they had only known the safety of which could never be touched by something so infernal. Each step brought him further, pushed him closer to seeing what the vision would grant him, what he would rip from the hands of those that spun the threads of destiny. It was one thread in particular that his fingers danced along, as he stepped past those who had been shielded from cruelty, past the creatures of Elysium that cowered around him.

The gardens that his feet stepped through burned away, dissipated as the vision shifted, as the lands of paradise morphed into the mountain that rose up in the distance. The light that emanated from its structure cast away the shadows that should have lingered, and the oracle’s lips curved into that merciless smile that had become a familiarity to his features as he drew closer and closer. The light shifted as he approached, cast against the metal of the gates that should have kept him out, that should have barred him from the halls that darkened with his arrival.

The once gardens that had shifted into the monstrous mountain now turned themselves into hallways that morphed into clouds as he continued further and further into the vision. His hands reached out to the sides, flitted through the ice crystals that had formed into shapes, until their pristine white darkened, until only scarlet and crimson remained. A soft laugh touched his lips as the drops began to fall, as the rainfall of ichor became a blight onto the land that had boasted of peace and tranquility. It would drown the isle out in the eternal sea, and it would wash away the would-be creatures that had been blessed.

A change of hands would be upon them, spun into the threads of destiny and fate, and it would be the old order that would soon fall. A hand covered in ichor was brought to the lips of the oracle, tasted against his tongue as his gaze returned once more to the thrones of the Gods. And where once they had been filled, now they stood empty.

The whispers of the dead remained like companions against the shell of his ears as the oracle stood from where he had knelt before the Necronomicon, blood of the Gods replaced with the blood of the initiate as Bastien turned towards Pythia, towards Leviathan. The grim smile remained upon his lips as he stepped across the darkened stones until he reached her properly, “A victory has become clear to me.” And with those words, he divulged the vision that he had torn from the hands of the Graeae.

#prompt.#senatus.prompt

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heyitsjay03 · 3 years

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I saw request we’re open for RE8. Could I please have a fem! reader who tries to get rid of Ethan Winters because he keeps causing distress to her wife, Alcina? Please and thank you.

yes. yes you most certainly can have this.

i have been DYING to write about some alcina x fem!reader for the sole reason being that i have NEVER questioned my sexuality so hard since this damn game came out so yeah.

ps: wrote this in first person hope that's okay!

pps: there is some major plot deviation because.... i felt like it. idk. it fit??

DISCLAIMER: I do not claim to own Resident Evil or its characters or plot. CAPCOM please don't come for me.

here you go love >:)

word count: 1.57k

"Girls!" I call, closing the door behind me. "My darlings, I'm home!" Shifting the grip on the parcel of items from the village, I look around.

Usually one of the girls would've answered by now. Bela is usually here to greet me.

She's probably with her mother.

I shrug off my fur coat, handing it to one of the maids. She takes it and lays it over the back of a chair. I can tell by the large, gnarled scar on her forearm who she is "Marienna," I mumble, staring up the stairway. "...where're the girls?"

Marienna's face pales as she stares back at me. Her mouth opens and closes like a trout. "Well?" I snap, "D'you know where they are or-?!"

A crash resounds down the hallway. Alcina's voice tears from her bedroom, followed by a shuddering sob.

I'm hurrying up the stairs in seconds, abandoning the parcel. My body collides with the door- forcing it open.

Our bedroom is destroyed- the vanity broken to pieces. Alcina's soft hands cling to the golden wood, thumb rubbing against the varnish. Slowly, her eyes trail up to me. A smile nearly as broken as the vanity crosses her painted lips. "...I loved this damned mirror," she mumbles, eyes turning down to the broken pieces again.

"What happened, darling?" I coo, stepping over the pieces to stand beside her. My hand on her shoulder, I turn her face gently towards mine. Tears are streaming down her face- leaving jagged streaks of mascara. "Are you alright? What happen-"

Alcina's body tenses under my touch. Trembling, her grip tightens on the wood. It cracks before being wrenching in twain in her hands. "It was that stupid manthing!" She hisses, standing back up to her full height.

"...what 'manthing'?" I ask, "Your brother?"

Alcina ignores me, leaning back down to pluck one of the larger fragments before throwing it across the room. "He laid his filthy paws on our daughters!"

My mind races as it struggles to understand what the hell is happening.

Manthing.

It's not Heisenberg. He'd never lay a finger on the girls.

Some brutish village slug- that's got to be it.

But why? Why on earth would they...?

It doesn't matter.

As Alcina leans down to grab another bit, I grab her hand. "...are... are the girls okay? Where are they?"

A shuddering sigh passes her lips. "...they're all together," she whispers, wiping tears from her face hastily. "Bela... she was... that disgusting beast, he nearly killed her!"

"What?" I mutter, eyebrows drawing together as I step back. "...what... well is she okay? What happened? Is she going to be alright?!"

Alcina sighs again. "...she'll be alright," her hand wraps around mine gently. "Her sisters found her. Brought her to me."

"Where is she now?," I ask, tightening my grip around her finger. "My baby girl... where...?"

Alcina smiles warmly, getting down onto one knee. Her fingers brush back the hair from my eyes. Tears fall quickly down my face as I realize what could've happened if Cassandra and Daniela weren't nearby. "She's with her sisters," she answers gently. "Resting... waiting for her mother to get back with the flowers and silk from the village."

A cold laugh passes my lips before I sniffle. "...her mother should've been there. Should've never left."

Alcina's face tightens. "You can't blame yourself, darling," she mumbles, turning my chin up so I can face her. "No one knew this... Ethan Winters... would be so hideously vindictive."

I nod slowly, wiping the tears from my face. "...can I see her?"

"Of course, my love," she says, leaning in to press her lips to my cheek. "Of course."

The two of us walk down the halls to the center of the house. 'Safest place for her' Alcina had told me.

She had spoken to me the entire way over here, trying to get me out of my own head.

Bless my beloved wife for trying.

But that name. It just keeps buzzing around my mind.

Images of my hands, covered in thick blood, gripping the handle of a sickle play through my head. The blade going through the jugular of this 'Ethan Winters' and popping out the other side. Him desperate for air, choking on his own hot blood, as he watches me loom over him.

His last words will be for mercy.

His last view will be my blade.

My breath is bated as I watch him stalk through the darkness of the courtyard. In the moonlight, I can see is head is down, eyes wary as he keeps a fair grip on his pistol. The cool air lets me see him regulating his breathing- keeping him steady, keeping his pistol steady.

He's experienced.

My grip on my own weapon tightens as he stops in the gazebo. His eyes narrow as he turns around, his pistol raised. I watch in mild amusement as he whirls around, looking for something to shoot.

He's experienced, yes, but still not experienced enough.

I tug the fabric around my face higher along the bridge of my nose. Gripping my sickle, I balance on the balls of my feet.

Ethan finally relaxes, dropping his arms with his back to me.

A small smile creeps along my lips under the mask. A foolish move made by an even more foolish man.

My body slides underneath the stone railings for the stairs leading into the center of the courtyard. Untucking one of the smaller knives from my belt, I pinch it between two fingers and flick my wrist forward.

The knife goes flying- landing right between Ethan's shoulder blades. A guttural yell comes from him as he spins around to face me. In a blink, I'm up in front of him, nose brushing against his.

I can see the fear in his eyes.

I can't help my smile growing beneath the dark fabric.

Ethan raises his hand, pistol in his palm. With a tut of my lips, I shake my head and stab his hand through with my sickle. "...no, no," I mumble as he continues to scream and thrash against my hold. "There'll be none of that, I'm afraid, Mister Winters."

His teeth gritted, he hisses as my sickle is pulled from the inner part of his wrist. A bitter laugh bubbles up from my gut as he stumbles back onto the floor of the gazebo, now holding the pistol in his shaky left hand. "You can't be serious!" I giggle as Ethan pulls the trigger.

A wet squelch hits my ears as the bullet tears into my stomach. I sigh dramatically, looking down at the gushing hole in my dress. "You didn't think I was human- did you?" I ask, twirling the sickle in my hand.

"Wh- what?" Ethan mutters, eyes fixated on the bullet wound in my torso.

"I'm not," I continue, stepping closer to him as he tries to back away. Another gunshot echoes through the courtyard- the bullet landing in my left shoulder. "Not entirely, anyways."

"What the hell are you?!" Ethan yells, firing three more shots. One in the crook of my neck, one just barely grazing my temple, one lodging itself in my hip.

My jaw tightens as I hurry forward, grabbing him by the collar and throwing him back into the center of the gazebo. "I!" I snap, grabbing him again and gripping his wrist. "I... am the mother of the girl you almost killed!"

I pull another knife out of my belt. Trailing it down his lips, I smile. "And the wife... to a woman scorned." With a single swing, the knife digs into the flesh of his palm and nails it to the gazebo.

Ethan yells in pain. As I step back, his other fist cracks across my face. I stumble back. Grabbing at my cheek, I chuckle darkly. "Oh, Ethan," I coo coyly, grabbing my sickle. "You really shouldn't have done that."

I swing and watch with what could only be described as 'glee' as the blade pierces his throat. Covered in blood, the blade glistens crimson in the pale moonlight. Ethan's choked pleas are drowned out by my laughter.

"Why?" is the only word able to leave his lips without being smothered in a gush of blood.

"Because, Mister Winters," I hum, my nose brushing against his as I watch the life in his eyes flicker. "You should never have touched my family."

BONUS ENDING:

"What is that delicious smell?"

I turn around to see Alcina bending down to peek outside. A smile crosses my lips as I gesture to the mutilated corpse with the end of my sickle. "Dinner, my love," I hum, wiping off the blade with the fabric I had used for a mask. "Sorry it's not the cleanest."

Alcina scoffs and waves me off. "It's fine, _________. I'll just go let the girls know their mother brought dinner...," she pauses, eyes flicking over the gushing body. "...who was that? He smells... familiar."

"Just Ethan Winters," I answer nonchalantly.

"...y-you..." Alcina stammers, eyebrows weaving together and lips pursing. "You... when did you-?"

"He must've been tired," I continue with a small smile. "He was not nearly as difficult a kill as I thought he'd be."

"...I'll... I'll be going now."

"Okay, love," I chirp, "I'll drag him in in a second. Love you!"

Alcina's eyes are still wide, mouth slightly agape as she steps away from the doorway. "...love you too... darling."

can you tell i had a lot of fun with this?

yeah. because i did.

i hope you enjoyed! writing lady d is so much freaking fun i kid you not.

big vampy lady make brain go brr

#lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x fem!reader #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #anon ask #anon #resident evil village fanfiction #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #ethan winters #manthing (derogatory)#had way too much fun with this #it was supposed to be like 500 words tops #it ended up being over 3 times that

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ravenadottir · 3 years

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Yo! I had so many questions I wanted to ask you while you were gone but I of course wasn’t gonna send in asks while you were on hiatus! I wanted you to have peace. But I should have written them down!! 😭

Now I only have this one question. I saw your ask to Mango about Chelsea’s super power and now I want your take on this. Not on Chelsea but an islander or islanders of your choice. What super powers would you give your favorite islanders? They can have more than one power like super heroes do if you feel like it fits.

hi! i missed you!

oh oh oh oh!! anything you remember, send it my way! i need something to help me wake up from this brain coma i've been in. i blame cmm for that...

ok, so i love this question, thank you for sending it to me! i'll definitely focus on a lot of them because well, i love the genre, and i love talking about them 🥺

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

lucas

fire. he's able to start it, besides dominating and bending it over to his own will. sometimes uses it for (partial) evil and more. being the anti hero i think he is, i would LOVE to see lucas playing with fire while delivering a speech that instigates the good guy in front of him. in a cool, well cut, all black suit with just one (1) red scarf on the lapel, or his neck, he would look amazing sending blazes everywhere! i even have a song for him: play with fire. aaaah the idea of lucas and fire sends me to heaven, hell, purgatory and back! he can be like tuxedo mask, regarding how he annoys everyone with his smugness.

gary

colossus. strength and possibility of turning into a dense metal at will? gary is perfect for it! he has the body shape and weight, and the skills for the maintenance. picture this: you walk down the hallway to go to the bathroom, only to hear him moaning in there. you're uncomfortable, thinking the worst, only to open the door and see him oiling his joints and almost falling on the floor. "a little help? i can't reach some places..." please, give me metal body gary, it would clear all my trauma! plus, as he is in the villa, he would exercise his comic relief role.

carl

brainiac with technology/time bending. (@lasswithumor's idea for 'time' makes me smile! thank you for the inspo!) not actual brainiac from dc though, let me explain. i always get the sense carl could be tony stark or bruce wayne, minus the assholery. he's much humbler and quiet, but still very capable. as for time bending being his power, it could make him overcome this sense of running out of time he always seems to have. he might have a hardship about it because he never seems to find a balance, so this skill is probably the only thing he could actually be good at, and benefit from.

noah

talking to the dead, like klaus hargreeves. something i would love to see is how tormented he would be while it happens. distressed noah is a beautiful concept, and part of the reason why he would be such a troubled character. picture this: he uses those people to fight in exchange of favors, like finding out who killed them, or to tell their families how peaceful they are now, among other things. noah and ghosts ring different to me, and the thought of him being troubled? even more! not like klaus, but definitely close to that. i love that "short temper" side of him, and in this context, it would be perfect. plus, his looks being similar to something from the 1920's, without the hat. so white shirt, suspenders, dark brown pants. ugh, he would look so good in it!

henrik

vines and plant banding, like layla williams in sky high. there's no other answer for him. i thought about making him avalanche, from x men, but i see him more connected to plants than any other element of nature. the way he would smirk and grow a small vine around his pinky while talking about a brilliant idea he just had? PLEASE. GIVE - IT - TO - ME, I LIVE FOR SMUG HENRIK! and you can be damn sure his looks would include this ponytail, by @juggalohenrik.

kassam

at first i thought invisibility, because of his personality and how he behaves in groups, but then it hit me, supersonic scream. he can take his frustrations out on a single booming scream and be done with it. i would love to see kassam being teased and beat up, only to get up from the ground, scrapes all over, bloody nose, only to position himself and close his fists to focus, before delivering a resounding scream to round it up real nicely. that's definitely a power he would find useful and excels in. the visuals definitely don't hurt either!

bobby

he's a very peculiar boy, and so his powers would have to be too. it might sound crazy, but hear me out! laughter inducement. the power itself can cause the person to laugh so hard, eventually the air is expelled from their lungs and they have quite the death! it's gruesome and i love it, it's the perfect juxtaposition between it and bobby's personality that is so bubbly. picture this: battlefield, gary smugly says "i guess that's the only way you could make someone laugh." to which bobby replies with a laugh "including you, tin can" while making colossus!gary laugh and fall on the floor because of it. it might require lots of energy, so bobby can't always cause mass laughter, just like in the villa... jk jk jk! i just know his uniform would be clown like, before priya adjusted to a beautiful dark teal piece. before that? goofy pink mask and cape with sprinkles, and tights everywhere else. he would also be the type of hero that is a comic relief. ironically, in this case.

lottie

rogue. the power and the visuals fit in so well! sucking up someone's power and/or energy SCREAMS lottie's personality all over! if i could adjust it so the girl doesn't manifest it unless she wants to, that's even better. lottie with dark hair and a streak of platinum, or the opposite, would look another level and i'm here for it! plus, the gloves... AAAAH THE GLOVES. she would smirk before taking them off and turning that grin into a determined smug expression before touching her enemy. PLEASE!

priya

TURNING - PEOPLE - INTO - GOLD. i said what i said. similar to medusa's power of turning people into stone. flowy dresses for the goddess looks, a smirk on her lips while she does it, and golden shiny eyes that glow bright when she throws her gold curse upon her enemy! she's goofy, so you know she has a cheesy catchphrase, but i can't think of anything right now. it's there, i just need to find it.

hope

mind control. CAN I JUST SAY? she practically has that power already. being persuasive and having the power of negotiation the way she already does would fit in perfectly. and if i may add, storm looks like the uniform and the "bright white eyes" while it happens???also! hope as the person who plans the attacks and defense.

marisol

persuasion. similar to allison hargreeves. one word and they will do it. at first i considered super strength, for being so unexpected to someone that petit, but if you account for her personality, persuasion as a super power is so much cooler! plus, she doesn't have to try hard, the seed of argumentation is already there. in her origin story you could have marisol having a moral grey area where she debates whether or not using those powers in court. i would love to see this dilemma and her going through it, since there's a clear distinction in what she considers right and wrong, and the ethically correct options to choose. as looks go, all she needs is a suit, similar to the prom one, and definitely a ponytail and gloves.

ibrahim.

flying and speed. something about rahim screams traditional super hero persona and i can't help but stir into it. he's perfect for the superman alter ego, the one that talks about justice and fights the big guy for the little ones. rahim has a way of going around and making people's lives better, at least that's how i see him. i asked for @itsrealityboo 's approval about this, because you know, she's the authority on golf boy, and she added something really cool that i hadn't thought about: "I will say that I could definitely see Rahim as a part of a team tho, like the fantastic four! I think because of his insecurities, he’s need some type of support system or even older mentor. He’d definitely go through that awkward phase of learning how to manage his powers if he wasn’t born with them lol"

i definitely agree after reading it, it makes so much sense! i don't know if that need comes from being the younger brother, or having those expectations at home (about being suave and all) but that would for sure be a part of his origin story as a superhero.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

in case you missed the asks i sent about superpowers, here is chelsea, by mango, and elisa, by kc

#litg lucas #litg gary #litg noah #litg henrik #litg kassam #litg bobby #litg lottie #litg hope #litg priya #litg marisol #litg elisa #litg chelsea #litg ibrahim #litg #litg season 2 #love island the game #love island the game season 2 #queue

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reinerispretty · 4 years

Text

rotations. (zuko x f!reader) pt15

hehehe hiiii thank you so much for reading!! i hope you guys enjoyed the last part and this one! :) this one is more of a filler chapter!! we’ll get back to the good stuff in the next one :D

pt1

pt14

pt16

“I wanted to say sorry, again. When I left the Fire Nation, I didn’t want to see you because I didn’t want to see your disappointment. I was worried that maybe your father had said something that had made you change your mind about me.”

(Y/N) had taken time bathing herself that night. The houses of the royal families were incredibly elaborate, so each room had its own bathroom. The water that ran from the taps was cold, since usually there was at least one firebending servant that would run around to heat the water. That night, (Y/N) was the firebending servant for her friends. Once she had heated everyone’s water, she trudged up the stairs to her own bathroom and began preparing her bath.

It had been a long time since she had had a bubblebath. Luckily, she remembered where the servants used to put the soap and added an outrageous amount of hot water in the tub. Once the bubbles were to her liking, she slid inside and released a content sigh.

The events of the day had eased the turmoil in her heart. While she was still recovering from the hurt that Zuko had caused her, the anger had subsided tremendously. (Y/N) could feel the tension that had been in her muscles ever since Zuko joined their group ease away as the hot water seeped into her skin.

She didn’t know how long she had been in there, but the moon was high by the time she stepped out to dry herself off. She took one of the fluffy robes from the closet and wrapped herself in it. It felt a bit stiff, like it hadn’t been worn in a while, but it gave her some comfort. It reminded her of home.

A knock resounded against the wood door to her bedroom. Quickly, she opened it, revealing Zuko standing awkwardly in the hallway.

“Oh,” she said. “Hi.” She still felt guilty from their fight earlier. She had gotten so angry and lost control, something she had never done before. She felt no better than the Fire Lord himself.

“Hi,” Zuko said. He looked past her and into her room. “I noticed you picked your old room.”

“Yeah, it’s the only one that felt comfortable.” She gave Zuko a weak smile. “Don’t tell Aang that he’s in Azula’s.”

Zuko laughed his raspy, beautiful laugh. (Y/N’s) heart felt uncomfortable in her chest. Like it had grown too big.

“It’s weird,” she continued. “Being back here. Everything was so different the last time I was here.”

“Yeah,” Zuko agreed. “I know the feeling.” She knew that the last time he had been here was when he was still with Mai. He had visited the island with her, Azula, and Ty Lee. A reunion had happened, of sorts. Minus (Y/N). “Can I...come in?”

She nodded, stepping to the side. He walked directly to the chair in front of the vanity, which was all the way across the room from where she would go to sit on her bed. The distance between them felt like miles.

“My father could never do that, Zuko.”

“I know. And I think back then, I knew that too. But then I saw you with the Avatar, and we didn’t have the reunion that I wanted. It just made me so mad that you were fighting with the person that was preventing me from going home. I was so angry after we would fight. I felt like you were picking him over me. Then in Ba Sing Se, when you came to visit, I know I didn’t look like it, but I was so happy that day. But then underneath the palace, you were fighting against Azula and I. I had worked it into my head that you and Uncle were traitors. The entire time that I was back home and you were in prison, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had done something wrong. I walked around the halls of the palace and it all felt fake, like something was missing. Now I realize that I had been wrong about everything. While I know it doesn’t excuse it, I wanted to tell you again how sorry I am.”

(Y/N) blinked at him. She wasn’t quite sure what to say. Never in a million years would the Zuko she knew have expressed his thoughts so clearly. A lot had happened to them, to the both of them, since they had last been together like this. He had grown and changed into someone who learned from his mistakes and sought to rectify his wrongs. She hadn’t let herself see that when he first joined them.

“I forgive you.” Her voice was soft, but her gaze was piercing. Zuko felt like she was staring straight into his soul. “I’m sorry for being so mean to you when you first got here.”

“You had every right to be.”

“I didn’t, though. Even when I was at my angriest with you, I couldn’t truly believe that you were evil. Believe me, I tried. Everything that you did to hurt my friends and I should’ve made me hate you, but it didn’t. I think that it made me mad that I couldn’t fully be mad at you.” She bent her head down and looked at her hands. “I should have never, ever challenged you to an Agni Kai, Zuko. I was just so upset and once I started saying it, I just couldn’t stop. I would never actually want to hurt you.”

“I know, (Y/N).” They stood at the same time. “It’s nice to be here. With you. When I was here before it felt...” He trailed off, leaving his sentence incomplete.

She smiled. “As surprising as this sounds, it’s good to be back.” Zuko smiled.

“I’ll uh, be in my room if you need me.” She nodded, shutting the door behind him as he walked out. She dressed in her pajamas and crawled into bed, turning on the side to face the empty wall. If she pretended hard enough, she was a kid again. Life was easy and all she had to worry about was mastering her newest firebending move.

When she came downstairs the next day, Sokka was practically begging the entire group to go see a play about their lives. “C’mon!” He said. “It’ll be fun. We deserve to live a little!”

And while the last thing (Y/N) wanted was to watch a play about herself, she came along anyway. It would be a lot better than sitting in the beach house by herself. The old memories that came flooding back whenever she turned a corner were too much sometimes.

Despite coming to the island nearly every summer when she was younger, (Y/N) had never been to the theater. Her father and Zuko’s were always far too busy to deal with such frivolous things (meaning their children).

They had chosen balcony seating, but who to sit next to was a serious question that was bothering (Y/N). The only open seats were by either Zuko and Sokka and while her relationships were improving with both, she wasn’t sure if she could spend two hours sat next to them. So she grabbed Aang by the shoulders and shoved him down into the seat next to Zuko. She took her own seat on the other side of Aang.

“Thank you,” She whispered to him as the lights dimmed. Aang furrowed his brows in confusion and then shrugged.

At the start of the play, (Y/N) was enjoying herself. Aang’s actor portrayed him as an idealistic child, which made her laugh. Katara’s character was always wailing about hope and Sokka’s was a bit cringy, but so was Sokka. But then, her character appeared on-stage.

The actress portraying her tripped over her baggy Earth Kingdom clothes as she stumbled into Sokka’s character. “Wow,” Fake (Y/N) swooned, her eyes wide. “You’re so handsome!”

(Y/N) shrank into her seat, hiding her face from her friends as they turned to look at her.

“I live an amazing life up in my father’s mansion in this city. I have everything I could have ever asked for, but I am very selfish!” Her character smiled and put her hands on her hips. “That’s why I’ve decided to betray the Fire Nation and help the Avatar!”

The audience booed at her. Throughout the rest of the play, all her character did was cry over how unfairly she had been treated by her nation. “And then!” Her character exclaimed. “They gave me bananas instead of the apples I had ordered from the servants!” Fake (Y/N) burst into tears. She did that a lot.

When her character and Zuko’s encountered each other, her character burst into tears again. “Zuko! My one true love, who was taken away from me by the wretched Fire Nation! I am so happy to see you!” Her character leaned in for a kiss, but he pushed her face away.

“I don’t talk to traitors!” Zuko’s character declared. This made Fake (Y/N) cry even harder.

“Why--doesn’t--h-he---want--m-me?” Her character said between sobs.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and was so thankful when intermission arrived. She was the first out of her seat and waited outside the theater for her friends.

“Wow!” Sokka said as he exited the theater. “That play’s amazing. So accurate! Except, my guy could use a few pointers.”

“Accurate?” Katara scoffed, crossing her arms. “I beg to differ. My character is nothing like me.”

“Sure,” Toph snorted.

“I agree with Katara,” (Y/N) said, her face contorted into a frown. “I’m not anything like that character.”

“Are you sure about that?” Toph asked with a smirk. (Y/N) punched her in the arm, her face turning red as she glanced at Zuko. He gave her a small smile.

The play was all lies and she knew that. It took the most exciting parts of their adventures and amplified them for the stage. She knew she didn’t cry that much and she certainly had never called Zuko her one true love. Not out loud, at least.

---

Tag List!

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#avatar #atla #zuko x reader #aang x reader #sokka x reader #toph #katara #aang #zuko #sokka #azula #iroh #momo #appa #the last airbender #writing #fanfiction

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luxekook · 4 years

Text

chapter eight.

⇥ pairing: ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 6.5k

⇥ warnings: 18+, lots of cursing, general chaotic energy [more than usual], poly relationship, switch!reader, dom!joon, switch!jin, switch!hobi, sub!yoongi, sub!jk, sub!tae, sub!jimin, jk is a whole cutie, everybody gets their bob ross on, PUNS, pick up lines, smut [thigh kink, noona kink, marking, oral (f receiving), dom/sub themes, daddy kink, mentions of spanking, lots of lap sitting]

Chapter Eight

(Y/n) & Luna’s Apartment – 8:38am

I wake to the sound of thunder and groan as my eyes strain to focus on the rain pouring down outside my window. Hastily, I grab for my phone and scroll through my notifications. Yup, my friend Brianna - the president of the Alphites - had emailed to say that Habitat is cancelled for the morning.

What did this mean for my date? Swiping over to the group chat, I quickly type a message to the boys.

Queen (y/n), Worldwide Handsome, and 6 Peasants

8:40am, (y/n): “Yo, dweebs. No volunteering today because of the rain. Looks like our date is cancelled, too…”

I laugh evilly as my phone consequentially blows up with a series of question marks and exclamations. Just as I’m about to put a stop to the madness I’d caused, my phone screen darkens with the telltale chimes of an incoming FaceTime.

Not even bothering to shift out of bed, I swipe to answer. “Hi, Hobi,” I grin at my sunshine who looks a little pouty this morning. The metaphorical rain cloud over his head lessens marginally at my smile.

The puffy, bare-faced boy sighs and runs a hand through his wild hair. Obviously, Hoseok had just woken up, and I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to wake up next to him.

“(Y/n)? Did you hear me?” Hobi chuckles, bringing my attention back to my phone. “You weren’t serious, right? Our date is still on? We have the whole thing planned! The rain doesn’t even affect it! And—”

“Is that (y/n)?” A cry of uproar sounds from the background on Hobi’s end of the line. A thundering of footsteps commences; and, suddenly, I am faced with seven slivers of faces all crowded together.

“(Y/n)!” Jungkook rips the phone from Hoseok’s grasp and takes off out of the room. The background blurs as he runs. Faintly, I can make out blurry figures giving chase behind him. “(Y/n)! Please still come over. We have everything set up! Saturdays are always full of noona, and I don’t want to break the tradition.”

Letting out a laugh at the fluffy haired boy, I smirk, “First of all, let me just say that I’m glad you don’t subscribe to the whole ‘SaTuRdAyS aRe FoR tHe BoYs’ toxicity. And second of all, you do realize you just gave away the date plans, right?”

“Jungkook!” The shout from what could only be an enraged Seokjin echoes across the connection.

I watch in amusement as the background once again blurs. As the feed refocuses, Jimin’s beaming face greets me, and I roll my eyes at the realization that Jungkook must have tossed him the phone. Probably playing a game of ‘Monkey in the Middle’ with their eldest brother, I assume.

Deciding enough is enough, I retake control of the situation with the tried and true method of the shock factor™. “Hey, I’m naked.”

Silence falls.

Then comes the seven pairs of eyes crowding the screen that I had hoped for.

Disappointed huffs resound from the collective as I cackle, trying my best to ignore their indignant cries.

“Noona’s not even naked!”

“Why, there’s not even a boob to be seen!”

“She’s got us lookin’ like boo-boo the fool, boys…SMH!”

“Jin, did you just say ‘SMH’?” The boy opens his mouth to respond, but I decide there’s no time to discuss acronyms right now. Shaking my own head swiftly, I clear my throat, “No, never mind. Now that I have your attention, I need someone to tell me what the plan is. Am I getting out of bed today? Are we still doing the thing?”

“You can get out of your bed and into mine,” Taehyung’s words barely escape his mouth before he is pushed out of frame by at least four of the others.

“Tae, are you trying to get your name added to my punishment list?” I smirk as two boys in particular gulp, “Jimin and Jin already have the distinct honor. Isn’t that right, boys?”

“You can add my name, noona!” Jungkook gasps out, lunging once again for control of the phone. He is shoved out of the way by Namjoon.

“Oh, my little Kookie,” I laugh, “That would practically be a reward for you.”

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your own punishment, (y/n),” Namjoon stares me down from the other end of the phone.

“I mean, you can try it,” I shrug, “But I’ll probably either like it or turn it around on you at some point. Just saying…”

“Sounds good to me,” Joon grins, his dimples popping out, “Now get your sweet ass over here so I can spank it.”

“Right now?” I double check the time, “It’s still not even nine fucking AM. What is this going to be? Some sort of all day extravaganza? Y’all better be feeding me.”

“Yah, do you know who I am?” Jin butts in from his small corner of the screen, ”You are in the presence of Worldwide Handsome Chef Extraordinaire Kim Seokjin! Of course you’re going to be well fed - both with my visuals and with food!”

“I have no words,” I say.

Jin forges on, “Speechless, eh? I’m used to it.”

“Could the two of you stop your gross flirting for one second so that we can actually convince (y/n) to come over?”

Yoongi’s scowl appears on screen as he takes control of the phone. Jin can be heard squawking indignantly in the background.

“Gross?” I raise an eyebrow, “That’s not what you were saying when you were teaching me piano.”

“Is that a euphemism?” Taehyung yelps.

“I think so,” Jimin answers darkly.

“Wait, what’s a ‘you feminism’ again?” Jungkook mumbles from somewhere in the room.

“Oh my god,” Namjoon moans, sounding completely done, “(y/n), I am begging you to hang up and call my phone so that I can actually let you in on the plan.”

“Bet,” I say, “I’ll call you in an hour. I’m going back to sleep.”

I hang up, abruptly cutting off their whiny protests. Boys can always wait. Extra sleep, however, must seized at every opportunity.

Sinking back into the bliss of my comfy bed, I smile as I flip my phone over and promptly fall back asleep.

(Y/n) & Luna’s Apartment – 11:57am

“(Y/n).”

“(Y/n)!”

“(Y/n), for the love of Jared Padalecki, get your ass up!”

Groaning, I wave Luna off with a limp arm, still half asleep. “Go away,” my garbled words prove to be futile as she pulls the covers right off of me.

“Your entourage is here,” Luna hisses, grabbing my ankle and attempting to tug me off the bed.

“My what?” I kick at her hold, “Stop going all horror movie on me!”

“You haven’t seen horror! Horror is waking up to the furious sound of fists pounding at the front door and thinking your dark past of downloading music off of sketchy websites has finally caught up with you! Horror is pulling open the door in just your Harry Potter onesie only to be faced with seven hot and all-too-put-together dudes!”

My brain slowly wraps its away around the meaning of her words. “Oh, fuck.” I launch out of bed, flailing around for my phone.

111 Messages

34 Missed Calls

14 Voicemails

“Good god,” I toss my phone back on my bed and stalk past Luna into the living room where my ‘entourage’ is gathered.

“Okay, what the fuck,” I cross my arms over my chest as I stare down at the seven boys spread out across our second-hand sectional.

“Noona, you’re here!” Jungkook springs up from his seat and tackles me in a hug.

“Where else would I be? I fucking live here,” I mumble into his chest, annoyance slipping away with each breath.

“I told you she just overslept,” Yoongi mutters from the couch, sounding very much like he was dragged here against his will.

“Finally,” I say, pulling away from Jungkook to beam down at Yoongi, “An intellectual. Now, what about the rest of you overreactive imbeciles? Did you just come over so that you could snoop around where I live?”

As I say this, my eyes narrow on Namjoon. The boy is inspecting the teacup I had forgotten to put away last night like it’s a new archaeological find. My words fluster him, and he fumbles with the cup before it falls from his grasp to shatter on the floor.

“I am so sorry!” Namjoon yelps. The rest of the boys look on with disappointment but not surprise.

“That was my great grandmother’s teacup,” I whisper, falling to my knees dramatically.

“Namjoon, your destructive nature has gone too far!” Seokjin yells, scrambling over to me. My face is buried in my hands as my shoulders shake. I can’t hold it any longer.

I burst out laughing. “Oh my god, it’s fine, Joon. I’m kidding. It was just a cup from Target’s clearance section.”

“So evil!” Namjoon whines, “I was so worried!” Shuffling over to the hallway closet, I pull out our dustpan and broom. Walking back, I hand it off to Namjoon before he can attempt to pick up a fragment of the shattered cup.

“Don’t even think about using your bare hands, Joon,” I narrow my eyes at him, “A trip to Urgent Care does not count as a date.”

“Noona,” Taehyung pipes up, “You should join the Acting Club! Did I mention I’m the president?”

“Oh, here we go,” Yoongi scowls, flicking his eyes over to where Seokjin is rapidly turning a concerning shade of red.

Mount Seokjin erupts, “You’re only president on a bullshit technicality! Fifth years can’t be on Exec boards, you swine!”

“Yo, Seokjin, I’m really bummed about that policy, and Imma let you finish. But, let me just say that if y’all don’t leave so I can get ready, I will avoid you for the rest of time.”

Seconds tick by. I frown, “I don’t see movement. Why don’t I see movement?”

“Well,” Jimin hedges, shrinking under my gaze, “We figured you could just come back with us? It would save you a trip?”

The disobedience in this crew would drive me off a cliff. “I guess I was not clear the first time. I am going to drive myself because: 1) I can leave on my own terms and 2) I can leave an overnight bag in the car just in case. Although, that possibility is slipping away by the millisecond.”

“Alright! Time to go!” Jungkook barks, herding the boys towards the door.

As they practically run out the door, Namjoon turns back to me with an arched brow, “No going back to sleep.”

I salute him, “Scout’s honor. I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, I’m finally left in peace and quiet.

“Want to explain what that was all about?!” Luna stalks out of her room, “I need the tea!”

A full hour and a half later, I find myself in an eerily empty frat house.

“Y’all really kicked everyone out, huh?” I comment as I peer around each corner of the house. There is not a soul - besides these seven fools - to be seen.

“I mean, there are only three other people that actually live here permanently,” Namjoon counters, ever the diplomatic president, “The rest of the rooms are mainly for guests or if a member needs temporary housing.”

Humming noncommittally, I come to an abrupt halt when the dining room comes into view. All the furniture has been pushed to one side to make room for eight easels and an excessive amount of paint.

“It looks like a Michael’s threw up in here,” I marvel.

“Who is Michael?” Jimin pops up next to me with narrowed eyes. The rest of the boys file in behind him.

“My sugar daddy,” I deadpan, “He’s an artist.”

Namjoon cracks up, while Jimin pouts adorably. “I guess you know what we’re going to do now, baby,” Namjoon says, still chuckling lightly.

“We’re doing DIY Painting with a Twist!” Taehyung yells, “The twist is that there’s no wine. Namjoon said it could get ‘too out of hand’ - whatever that means.”

“What is everyone going to paint?” Hobi asks the room after a brief pause, “I’m going to make something for (y/n)! It’s a surprise.”

“That’s so sweet, Hobi,” I smile at the boy, “Thank you!”

Not a group to be outdone, the boys quickly affirm that they too had been planning to make something for me all along.

Rolling my eyes, I sigh, “Careful, I’m going to get used to y’all spoiling me.”

“Good,” Namjoon nods, “You’re learning.”

“Yes, daddy,” I tease, “Are you going to keep spoiling your good girl?”

“You’re not a good girl,” Yoongi laughs, “You’re a fucking force of nature.”

“Thank you,” I wipe a nonexistent tear from under my eye, “This is why you are currently my favorite.”

“What!”

“Wait, you have a running favorite?”

“How can I get to be your favorite?”

Five minutes later, the room is empty aside from Jungkook and I. The rest of the boys dispersed the moment they decided to make painting a competition for my favor.

“Aren’t you going to hide away, too?” I address the younger boy next to me.

“Why would I go anywhere else when you’re right here?” Jungkook shuffles closer to me, “Besides, I wanted to use a different canvas.”

“Ah, I see,” I nod sagely before pulling my long-sleeved shirt up and over my head.

“Noona!” Jungkook chokes as he takes in my slightly sheer tank top and the black bra that peeks out from underneath, “I meant your wrist!”

“Calm down, Kook,” I laugh, “I can put it back on if you want. I just don’t want to get paint on it.”

Jungkook shakes his head furiously.

He then grabs my arm gently, flipping it over so that the inside of my wrist faces up. His thumb brushes over my erratic pulse and pauses. “Are you nervous, noona?” His wide eyes stare up at me, “You don’t have to let me paint on you.”

“It’s okay, Kookie,” I say, brushing his fallen hair out of his eyes, “Paint me like one of your French girls.”

The boy’s cheeks bloom a bright red as he flashes me a small smile, “That’s one of my favorite movies.”

My heart swells as the cuteness that is Jeon Jungkook, and I can’t resist teasing him further. “Jungkook,” I whisper, leaning forward, “I would gladly share my door with you to keep you warm.”

“Noona,” He whines, trying to pretend like he wants to get away from me. I would rate his efforts a 1/10 considering his hand is still firmly wrapped around my wrist.

“The iceberg would melt because of how hot you are…” I keep going, arching closer to murmur in his ear, “Just like the Titanic, I would go down on you for hours.”

“Noona!” Jungkook yelps, “Stop playing with me!”

“Fine,” I pout, “But the offer stands.”

“You’re going to kill me…” He mumbles. Dipping his paintbrush into his nearby palette, Jungkook begins to etch the outline of what looks like some sort of flower onto my wrist. The strokes of the brush across my skin make me shiver - something that does not go unnoticed by Jungkook.

His eyes dart to mine, and I feel like crumbling under the weight of the adoration I find within them.

“Kookie,” I glance down, breaking the intensity before it consumed me whole, “What kind of flower is this?”

He mumbles something inaudible.

“What?” My ears strain to pick up the boy who for some reason decided to answer in the language of tiny.

“A tiger flower,” Jungkook turns away to grab a new brush, his hair failing to hide his flushed cheeks. I watch enraptured as he mixes the orange and white shades to get the end result he wants.

Returning to my wrist, he leans down and lightly blows across the drying paint.

“This is unfair,” I mumble as the boy continues to unknowingly seduce me. Or did he know? My eyes narrow as his gaze flicks to mine. Arching a brow, I decide to press him, “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the matching tattoo on your forearm, right?”

“N-no,” Jungkook panics, eyes darting this way and that, “That would be Ludacris.”

Did he just— Not the time.

“Mhm,” I hum, ever the skeptic.

Jungkook swallows before once again resorting to tiny speak, “Okay, yes, it does. I’m asking you to love me, noona. Please.”

My breath escapes me in a whoosh as I stare dumbfounded at the pleading boy who once again starts to paint my wrist. Why is such a beautiful human lacking in adoration? Why does he need my affection when he has six other lovers?

“Why?” The question slips past my lips before I can catch it.

“Because,” He continues to paint, “I can see myself loving you for a very long time, and I just want to be loved back for just as long.”

The silence that falls after Jungkook’s admission feels safe and comfortable. His words swirl around my mind. And as he finishes the flower now adorning my wrist, I give him an answer I’m not even sure he had been waiting for. “Jungkook,” I wait until he meets my eyes, “I don’t think I’m in love with you yet. I’m not even sure I know what love is or what it feels like. But I can see myself falling for you. And I do know that there is a place in my heart labeled ‘Jeon Jungkook’, just like there are six other places for the rest of you… Y’all really do take up a lot of space.”

I let out a little laugh as Jungkook’s lips twitch in amusement. I continue, “It scares me sometimes. How I might fall for all of you and get heartbroken seven times over. But, I might also fall for all of you and get seven times the amount of love in return. And so I’m willing to fight for that chance. Besides, what’s life without a little risk?”

Jungkook is quiet for a moment, and then he whispers, “I really like you, (y/n)-noona.”

I lean closer to him. Our noses brush as I whisper back, “I really like you, too, Jungkookie.”

The smile I get in response is blinding, and I can’t resist pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I’m done!” Taehyung hurtles through the doorway, lugging a giant canvas that definitely had not been in the room earlier, “I call this masterpiece: ‘My Boo’.”

Gaping, I take in the massive canvas full of swirling colors and abstract shapes. It’s honestly overwhelming and a bit dramatic, but that is Taehyung. And I love it.

“It’s so pretty!” I coo, shuffling over to side-hug Tae.

He shyly hangs his head on my shoulder, “You really think so?”

“Yes, baby,” I nod, “Of course I do.”

One by one the other boys return to present me with their art. Seokjin presents a sea of rainbow colored hearts (“Get it? I see hearts when you’re around!”). Hobi shows off his technicolored sunset (“It’s how I feel when I look at you, (y/n)! Hopeful, but at peace.”). Jimin bashfully hands over a painting of two silhouettes dancing (“It’s us.” *blushes profusely*). Yoongi gives me a black canvas with a portion of lighter blue mixed in (“You make my world brighter.”). Finally, Namjoon shuffles over with a succulent plant in a painted flower pot (“I accidentally elbowed a hole through my canvas… This is my favorite plant, for you.”).

The boys also marvel over the flower that Jungkook painted on my wrist while the younger boy beams with pride. One of them mentions ordering pizza for dinner, and the room clears within seconds as the majority flees in search of a menu.

Namjoon is the last to remain, admiring the art etched on my skin. “You know what it means, right?” He murmurs, thumb tentatively brushing across the dried paint.

“He told me,” I nod, focused on the gentle caress of his fingers.

Namjoon lifts my hand to his mouth and places a light kiss. The motion takes me back to the memory of a few weeks ago where he first had performed the action. “I hope you know the sentiment extends to all of us as well.”

“Oh, does it?” I smile, “You might have to mark me to make it believable.”

“Consider it done,” Namjoon says before pulling me closer to him and placing his lips on my neck. What an opportunist, I muse as he bites down gently. His tongue flicks before his lips once again press down on my neck. Namjoon litters my neck with small kisses. I gasp as he suddenly returns to the initial spot and bites down slightly harder, sucking and licking at my neck afterwards.

“Joon,” I breathe out as he pulls back, looking all smug and proud of himself, “I will get you back for this.”

“I look forward to it, baby.” With that, Namjoon laces his fingers through my own and tugs me out of the room towards the ruckus being caused in the kitchen.

One hour later, the eight of us are piled on the massive living room sofa.

“I think I’m pregnant,” Seokjin moans, rubbing a hand over his stomach. “The father is Papa John.”

“I told you not to race to beat Kook to the last slice,” Hobi shakes his head, “No one ever listens in this house.”

“You get me, bro, you get me,” Namjoon extends his fist to Hoseok who fist bumps him.

I survey the room from where I’m perched on Taehyung and Jimin, one leg hitched over one of theirs. “I thought we were going to watch a movie?” I furrow my brows, “Or was that just a ploy to get me to stay longer?”

Jungkook scrambles to his feet, “I’ll go get Titanic!”

“No!”

“Please, god, no!”

“Noooo!”

The crestfallen expression that crosses Jungkook’s face tugs at my heartstrings. “Aw, Kook, I really inspired you with my words earlier, huh?” His pouting intensifies as he stalks back over to his end of the couch.

“Never let me watch what I want,” He mumbles. Sensing that this is an often fought battle, I shimmy off of Tae and Jimin and head over towards the youngest.

“How about this,” I reason, “Let the group decide what movie to watch, and I’ll sit with you during it.”

“Promise?” Large brown eyes peer up at me. At my nod, his expression brightens, and he pats his legs excitedly.

Settling down on his thighs, I realize I have made a grave miscalculation.

My thigh-riding kink + Jungkook’s muscular thighs = chaos

As the rest of the boys argue between watching Die Hard or The Hangover, I shift my hips slowly to try to get more comfortable. Jungkook’s swift inhale tells me that my move wasn’t as low-key as I had hoped.

“Noona, stop moving,” He mumbles into my hair, his arms firmly circling my waist.

“Sorry, baby,” I mutter back to him, trying hard to reign in my thirst.

The boys finally decide to watch Die Hard. Minutes tick by as the movie I’ve seen multiple times before plays on the screen. I’m only half paying attention, and I’m pretty sure Jungkook isn’t paying attention at all.

His fingers have shifted under my tank top and are drawing patterns onto the skin of my stomach. “So soft,” He marvels, his words ghosting across the skin of my neck.

The effect the boy has on me is deadly, and I retaliate with one of the only ways I can. I grind my hips slowly down onto his. The heat of his body warms my own, the hardness of his cock becoming more and more apparent underneath me.

“Noona,” Jungkook moans, “You’re so unfair.”

I whisper back, “You started it.”

He scoffs, moving my hair to one side of my neck, and pauses. “Oh, what’s this?”

“Don’t even think—”

His lips descend onto my neck, cutting me off mid-sentence. “Insolent child,” I breathe out, trying to keep my shit together despite finding it so fucking hot that Jungkook’s mouth is where Joon’s had been just over an hour ago.

Keeping my eyes firmly on the screen where John McClane is steadily taking down a whole crime organization singlehandedly, I try in vain not to imagine getting double teamed by Jungkook and Namjoon. By the time the credits roll, my panties are a mess. I can feel Jungkook practically throbbing underneath me from being so hard, and I’m pretty sure my nipples could cut through glass.

“What’d you think, (y/n)?” Hobi beams over at me from the other end of the couch.

I plaster a smile on my face like I hadn’t just been imagining the whole room naked and engaged in NSFW activities. “It was iconic as always!”

The boys seem to happily accept my answer. Well, most of them do. Yoongi is staring at me with a suspicious expression. Damn, that boy is too observant for his own good.

“Well,” I decide to try to regain some semblance of self-control, “Where did I put my keys?”

“WHAT!”

“You can’t leave! It’s only 9pm!”

“You said you would would stay overnight!”

I roll my eyes upwards, at least this provided Jungkook an opportunity to tug a pillow onto his lap. “I’m going to get my bag from the car, you fools.”

The boys let out a collectively sheepish “Ah”.

“I’ll walk you, noona,” Jimin stands, making his way over to my side.

“Trying to butter me up, baby?” I can’t help but ruffle his hair, “Okay, come on.”

Jimin and I make our way to the front door where my keys lie on the entryway table. Grabbing them, I head out into the darkness of the front yard with Jimin trailing after me.

“Will you sit with me for the next movie, noona?” Jimin asks, running a hand through his hair as we trek towards my parked Jeep.

“What’s in it for me?” I joke, unlocking the passenger side door and grabbing my bag. Turning back towards the house, I shut and lock my car behind me.

“Cuddles?” Jimin answers, eyes wide and bottom lip poked out.

“Stop that,” I moan, moving swiftly past him, “Puppy-Dog eyes? That’s so unfair!”

“Is it working?” He races to keep up with me, “I think its working.”

“You’re still on my shit list, Park Jimin,” I whirl around, drop my bag to the ground, and grab the front of his shirt. Moving to a standstill with his lips an inch from mine, I say, “Or did you forget?”

Jimin gulps, his eyes dark, “I didn’t forget. It’s all I’ve been thinking about.”

I place the lightest kiss to his lips, “Good answer.” With that, I pick my bag back up and waltz back into the house. “Are you coming?” I call at the boy still standing in the middle of the front yard.

“Now I know why Kook says you’re mean,” Jimin shakes his head at me as he regains the will to move.

“You’re a fast learner,” I comment, placing my keys back onto the entryway table. “I’ll sit with you.”

“Yay!” Jimin cheers, “I’ll go tell Taehyungie!”

“What?” I screech after the boy’s departing form, “I didn’t know this was some sort of package deal! Lord give me strength…”

Rifling through my bag to double check I have everything, I notice that I seem to be lacking a sleep shirt. How is it that I could pack three different pairs of socks for one night over but forget a fucking shirt?

“SOS,” I call out, zipping my bag back up. Once again, the sound of stampeding steps is heard before the seven of them appear above me.

“Someone needs to give me their biggest and comfiest t-shirt.”

A brief pause permeates the room before all seven boys dart into action. Left all alone in the entryway, I let out an incredulous laugh at how completely whipped I’m becoming for them.

After a few minutes, I hear them congregating in the hall just up the stairs. Just as I’m about to go investigate, they shuffle down. Namjoon presents me with a pile of what must be a selection of t-shirts from the bunch.

“We all want you to wear our clothes, so we decided to make it fair and just let you pick one without knowing who’s it is,” Seokjin explains.

Looking around the room, I can tell they all think this is a magnificent idea. Meanwhile, I’m baffled why they think I wouldn’t know who’s shirt is who’s just from the style, size, and smell. However, I decide to be a nice girl and play along.

“Okay,” I grab the entire pile along with my bag, “I’ll go change.”

“I’m so excited!” Taehyung bounces up and down, “She’s going to pick mine. I know it!”

“That’s because you gave her your Ce—” As Taehyung tackles Jimin to the floor, I take that as my cue to leave.

Speeding up the steps, I make a beeline for Yoongi’s room, entering and locking the door behind me. My bag is tossed on the bed first followed by the sea of mostly black and white clothing. They know me so well already.

I examine my options:

A white Balenciaga t-shirt with “Europe 2018” embroidered in red over the heart,

A soft pink hoodie by Marques’ Almeida with long black silky drawstrings,

A red and black striped Raf Simons long-sleeved shirt with sewn-on patches,

A Fear of God white t-shirt with the iconic “FG” on the front,

A black Mastermind t-shirt with the brandname and a skull and crossbones emblazoned on it,

A black Celine t-shirt also with the brandname on the front, and

A grey long-sleeved t-shirt by Carhartt with the name in blue along the sleeve.

Making my selection, I shake my head over the careless nature these boys handle their extremely expensive clothing. I am almost certain that Jungkook had given me the only shirt of the bunch that was under $100.

Regardless, I fold the rest of the shirts before stuffing them into my duffle bag. If they all want me to wear their clothes, I will - eventually. Quickly, I change into my sleep shorts, tug on what I assume is Hobi’s shirt, and head out of Yoongi’s room.

Opening the door, I blink as seven expectant faces shine back at me. Six expressions fall as one lights up even more. “You chose mine!” Hoseok cheers, running to engulf me in a hug that sweeps me off my feet, “Oh, you look so cute!”

“Can’t. Breathe.”

“Why’d you leave your stuff in Yoongi-hyung’s room, noona?” Taehyung pouts as the rest of the boys try to pretend like they also aren’t miffed.

“Because I’m going to sleep with him?” I march over to Yoongi and hug him from behind, pressing my lips to his cheek. “Is that okay with you, Yoongs?”

The boy grumbles under my show of affection, but his hands come up to clasp over mine as they circle his waist. “I can live with that, I guess.” The eye roll accompanying his words is so evident even when standing behind him.

“You’ll pay for that, baby boy,” I whisper in his ear before biting gently down on his earlobe, reveling in the cute little squeak that emits from him in response.

“She’s still sitting with me and Tae during the next movie, though!” Jimin - ever the instigator - interjects as the group makes their way back downstairs. Yoongi and I shuffle behind them.

The eight of us decide to watch The Hangover next since that had been the runner-up before. Once again, I’m draped between Jimin and Taehyung. This time, I’m fully placed on Jimin’s lap while my legs are sprawled out across Tae’s thighs.

My legs had barely even settled onto his lap before his hands were on them. This time I don’t even pretend like I’m paying attention to the movie. I’m more entranced by the way Taehyung kneads his way up my legs from my ankles to my calves to the insides of my thighs.

Meanwhile, Jimin is snuggled into me tightly. His face is shoved into the crook of my neck, and I honestly think he might be sound asleep. With each breath, Jimin’s pillowy lips brush my collarbone. I couldn’t tell if this is my own personal heaven or hell.

Looking up, I meet the dark gaze of Min Yoongi once again. Neither of us break eye contact as I try to read the look on his face and his body language.

He is either: 1) pissed off by something I did, 2) turned on by something I did, or 3) all of the above.

My hunch is the third. Testing that theory, I slide my tongue across my bottom lip. Sure enough, his eyes track the motion instantly before returning to mine. Bing-pot.

The movies seems to take way longer than it’s hour and forty-something minutes. I blame the combination of my sexual frustration and the varying degrees of awareness of it from the boys.

As soon as the credits roll, I extract myself from the holds that Jimin and Tae had on me. “I’m tired,” I lie.

“Aw,” Seokjin hurries over to me and sweeps me into a tight hug, “Get some beauty sleep, darling. Because, in the morning, I’m making pancakes!”

I place a swift kiss to his cheek, “Sounds perfect.”

I bid the rest of the boys goodnight with similar affections. Slowly, I make my way over to the stairs, knowing that Yoongi is trailing after me closely.

Making sure to put an extra swing in my hips, I climb up the staircase like I was getting paid to do it. Finally, I enter Yoongi’s room, turn to face the boy it belonged to, and tug him inside.

“What the fuck, Min Yoongi,” I hiss before closing the door behind him and shoving him against it.

“What?”

He has the audacity— I take a calming breath.

“You eye-fuck me throughout the entire movie and ask me ‘what’?” My hands curl into the fabric of his shirt.

A small smile makes its way across Yoongi’s face as my glower intensifies, “You can’t expect me not to think about that after you announce to everyone that you’re sleeping with me.”

“I didn’t mean literally, you buffoon,” I groan, turning away to head towards the bed.

Yoongi grabs my hips, halting me in place. “I know. But that didn’t stop me from thinking about what it would be like with you. What it would be like to be selfish with you.”

“You want to be selfish with me?” I ask softly, “What does that mean?”

“It means that I know that Tae was the first to get your mouth, but I want to be the first to give you mine.”

Yoongi’s words steal the breath from my lungs and the chill from my very soul. I gasp out, “You want to taste me, baby? That’s what you want?”

“More than anything,” Yoongi groans, pushing his hips into mine. “Please, (y/n), I’ll do anything to put my mouth on you.”

I pull away from Yoongi so that I can face him. His pupils are blown out, his hair is messy, and his expression is devastating with its pleading look. After being teased by so many of the others for the whole evening, he looks like my salvation.

“Okay,” I nod, lying down with my legs hanging off the edge of the bed. “Do your worst. No, not the time for that expression. Do your best. Please.”

Chuckling, Yoongi sinks to his knees before me, running his hands up my legs and resting on the hem of my shorts. He sends me an asking look, and I nod. His fingers shake slightly as he pulls off my shorts.

Left in nothing but pair of lacy red boy-briefs, I shiver in anticipation as I feel Yoongi slip a tentative finger underneath the remaining material.

“Fuck,” He groans, sliding his finger up and down my folds, “You’re so fucking wet, baby.”

“Well, do something about it,” I command, moving my hips up so that he might get the hint to take of my underwear. His finger slides out from underneath them and he doesn’t even hesitate before sucking it into his mouth.

“Yoongi,” I hiss, getting more and more impatient.

Yoongi pulls his finger out of his mouth, “Sorry, (y/n), I just want to savor this moment.”

“You can savor my pussy with your mouth,” I say, “Or are you all talk, Min Yo—”

Quicker than I can comprehend, Yoongi slides my panties to the side and licks a stripe up my folds. I moan as he sucks and licks at my pussy like a man possessed.

“Fuck,” I grab his hair and tug him closer, feeling him moan into me.

The build up of tension and frustration from being surrounded by these boys for the entire day has me on the brink of orgasm already.

Yoongi’s mouth closes over my clit, circling it with his tongue and flicking it slowly.

“More, Yoongi,” I demand.

He listens. Still worshipping my clit, Yoongi slips a finger inside me, curling it in such a practiced way I could scream.

He adds a second. Yoongi’s fingers thrust in and out of me as his tongue continues to taste and tease my pussy.

When he hits a certain spot in me, I moan his name, and I swear he growls. Repeatedly, his fingers hit that same spot inside me and I’m panting, trying my hardest not to come. Not yet.

“Harder!” I moan. Again, Yoongi follows like a good boy, his fingers and tongue picking up the pace.

Pausing to pull my legs over his shoulders, Yoongi meets my eyes. The pinkness of his lips glisten with my juices as he sighs, “I think you might be my new favorite meal.”

Before I can even respond, his resumes wrecking me. He fucks me with his fingers, grabbing at my ass with his free hand.

His mouth devours my pussy, wreaking havoc on my clit with every flick of his tongue.

My thighs quake as my battle to hold off coming becomes too much to endure. My back arches as the pleasure builds up with each quick stroke of his tongue and every movement of his fingers.

As if he knows exactly how to ruin me forever, Yoongi sucks on my clit harshly, and I come, my thighs trapping him between them. Despite it all, Yoongi continues to fuck me, lapping up everything like a starving man.

Soon, the overstimulation hits and I relax my thighs. Pulling his hair, I murmur, “Stop.”

Yoongi obeys.

“Come here,” I sit up, extending an arm out to him. He shuffles forward and when he is within reach I launch myself at him. Kissing him fiercely, I taste myself on his tongue.

“That was so good, baby,” I reach my hand up to stroke his flushed cheek. “Do you want me to help you out?”

“No,” Yoongi shakes his head, “I would rather eat you out again.”

“You’re insatiable!” I cry, tugging out of his hold. “We’ll see…”

a/n: this chap got away from meeee AHHHHHH it’s the longest one yet uwu hope u enjoyed! :) also this is v unedited bc i wanted to post asap so keep that in mind hehe

@catsandstrawberries @h5naaa @meowmeowyoongles @leftflowerprunedonut @rjsmochii @karissassirak @weallhavesecretsinthebestway @cage7241 @cvbachacbitch @honeyspillings @valiantcollectorofsandwiches @fivesecondsofsarang @oii-f-eli-x2 @joonsroses @theevilyouknow @jooniescupcakes @expensive-grl @i-dont-even-know-fck @athletes-of-god@doingmybestalltheftime @elraee @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh @laced-brds @breeeeh17 @peachyharmoney @rilakoya @chulchuchi @tabula-rasa0 @guccishookv @nomimits7 @i-like-puppy-mg @s-noir @anna-sorel @im-a-space-child @yeontanismypresident @drowning-in-oxygen @team-wang-puppy @lvvegood @anongirl007 @may114 @r-e-d-i-s-h @unatempesta-dipensieri @dragon-rider-with-a-book @blueberrygeniejam @wondrsblog @vi-hoshi @kirbykook @katemwatson @kawaiikpoplover268 @amsteramyy @sami4life @a-feeling-of-euphoria @the-jackals @bubbletae7 @platinum-grenade @bunnyboyenthusiast @brightly-byun @oofmeintheheadpls @sadboibts @lidda @goldenwidow3 @t-mel19 @lmkjimin @psiphidragon @jeon-joker @sathom013 @lustremyg @ggsmashgg @justyouraveragerando @shadowstark @our-little-meow-meow @baby-hobii @mythicalmeep @asifetch7 @kassandravictoria @eltrain80 @briannasthings @bumblekey93 @ohmwreckr @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @softchimmee @kookoo-kachoo @lenuminous @ass-hole-in-one @peaches-422 @spacejooon @sleepyje0n @uxwi @tellmeyoulovemepls @yady24 @lovesick-heart0 @redirect-min @hopetookourvibe @noonaduck @mini-coop25 @multifandomgirl29 @rhd31 @yoongixvevo @sweetnspicy93 @kuppyjiminie @love-and-other-possibilities @fuckyouandtheboatyoucamein @geminidrawsstuff @livorna @naajix @minjoonhome @subtlepjiminie @mono-kookie @purpleheartsfortae @krystle1990 @jungkooks-nut-is-tasty-in-busan @sky-the-squirrel @jinyounglovebot @vivpurple7 @xcastielbabyangelface @patpus @daydreamingwithbts

a/n: if u asked to be added to the taglist and u did not get tagged, u might be one of the couple ppl that i couldn’t tag [check ur settings, fam!]

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otp4lyfe4eva · 3 years

Text

The Star in My Universe

A/N: Hey Guys, I just wanted to thank you for taking the time in reading this story. You are probably wondering if this journey is even worth the hassle and all I can ask is please give it a chance before writing it off. I hope you enjoy it as I have enjoyed writing this. I have posted this on AO3, Fanfiction and Wattpad and figured I'd share it here. Feel Free to expressive your thoughts, concerns, opinions and comments or not…you taking the time in reading this is an honor.

Well here we go! The first chapter to the first adventure!

Chapter One:

“Brick, there’s something I need to tell you—"

“What do you think of Berserk, Bubbles?” He interrupted while watched the combative redhead roam down the hallways with her sinister smile distilling fear in everyone.

“I didn’t know bullies were your type” I answered as I leaned against the locker next to Brick.

“Berserk isn’t like that, she’s—different” Brick answered, I looked at him watching her waltz down the hallways and noted how the other students practically ran in the opposite direction. Berserk has always been a deranged girl who looked exactly like my sister Blossom but the only difference between the two aside from style were their personality. Blossom was sweet while Berserk was a nightmare. Ever since Buttercup and Blossom got accepted into some private school for junior high, I got stuck going to public school alone. It wasn’t always the best especially when people realized my two sisters weren’t attending with me; it gave them ammunition to become monsters. It gotten so bad that I had to spend one semester being home schooled. Blossom and Buttercup tried their best to have me transferred but I wasn’t “talented” enough like my sisters. Blossom was the smart one, Buttercup was the athletic one and then there was me, Bubbles. Because I couldn’t get into Townville Prep the Professor and I had to move while Buttercup and Blossom lived in the dorms and visit during breaks and holidays. I envied that they attended Townsville Junior high Prep being close to our old friends, while I went to Citiesville.

“All you have to do is study your butt off and you can apply for Townsville Oakes Academy” Blossom’s words resounded in my head countless times for the past two years. I worked my butt off to be the top student here and making sure I don’t get nothing but an ‘A’. I couldn’t afford a distraction which is when Brick asked me what I thought of Berserk I simply ripped my locker door opened. Not bothering to give Brick a warning I was annoyed by that comment and I didn’t know exactly why. Brick and I became best friends since he moved here two years ago and stood by each other when things got rough. He was my rock when I told him I needed to bring up my grades and end the year with all A’s. I remember him bringing me snacks and food in the library because he always knew I forget to eat. I was his backbone when he was going off the reins during his parent’s divorce and decided to stay with his brother and father here in Citiesville while his other dad moved. I remembered when he was evasive when I’d ask about his parents. It wasn’t till he invited me to dinner three months into our friendship I found out he has two dads. It was surprising but amazing how two individuals found each other and loved each other only to end that happinesses. The only thing I was concerned about was how Brick would bring up HIM moving away from them and just leaving his kids behind. I stood by Brick every moment of the way till he felt strong enough to be on his own again and even when he claimed to be strong, I would walk behind him with a safety net ready to catch him when he falls.

It was a hectic, yet we stood by each other’s side like glue. There were times I wondered why we were friends; we were clearly from different worlds with different ambitions in mind. Waiting for the homeroom bell to ring, I secretly stole a glance at Brick who was too busy watching the red head eighth grader chatting with her equally deranged sisters: Brat and Brute. I rolled my eyes at the Punk girls who clearly weren’t going to class. I observed Berserk as she laughed while fixing the ribbons in her long red hair. Her plaid top was way too tight on her revealing largely enhanced breast while her skirt didn’t leave anything to the imagination. Berserk was your average girl trying to grow up too fast and convincing everyone, including faculty, that she’s an adult—which she’s not. She wasn’t right for Brick; one time Berserk didn’t even know where the bathroom was and there was a sign of a girl on the door. I remember I had to literally walk her to the bathroom just so she wouldn’t walk in the boys’ room, again. I don’t understand what Brick sees in her, if anything I always figured he would be interested in someone intelligent or be like me and not be interested in anyone till marriage.

“She’s also an airhead with an evil smile who can’t tell the difference between Picassos’ blue period and cubism period” I added.

He smirked before replying, “No one except you can tell the difference. You’re the smartest girl in school”

“Obviously, but I always thought you would want a girl with—I don’t know, an actual brain.” I finished, I looked at him and could see he was too busy being infatuated with Berserk’s outfit.

“I don’t know, I thought you had higher standards— “

“Bubbles, what’s your deal?” Brick questioned “why are you acting weird?”

His gaze switched to me, but I didn’t flinch when his eyes were trained on me waiting for an answer. I kept my eyes on Brick, not afraid to challenge him. I remember I use to be afraid of him and couldn’t even look him in the eye like everyone else in school. But once we became friends, I become the only one who didn’t feel scared by his presence or felt like he could crush my entire existence. I simply would tell him point blank if he was in the wrong, or even how I feel because we’ve evolved in our friendship where there are no secrets between us.

Yet, I didn’t understand why I was getting worked up on Brick’s taste in women, he is a known player with no standards. Looking down I felt like a complete idiot for putting that act, he’s free to be interested in whomever he wanted, so why did it bother me?

‘You just care about your best friend’s wellbeing’ I thought, I looked at him and thought back to the time we first met:

“Morning class, today we have two new students” The teacher announced.

I was quite excited to see who the new kids were, I wasn’t exactly the welcoming committee, but I always felt if someone greeted me with a warm welcome they’d smile. I looked at the other kids who were uninterested and were busy scribbling in their notebooks or on their phones.

“I wonder if they are ugly” I heard one kid whisper; I bit my inner cheek hoping they wouldn’t get picked on like I was when I first came here. I was terrified for their wellbeing; another set of kids being thrown in the lion’s den with no protection. It was my duty to warn these newcomers. But my thoughts vanished when they walked into the classroom. The teacher introduced him, but he seemed so distant about it. he loud beating from my chest filled my ears. My palms grew sweaty and there were goosebumps all over my body. A cold shiver went down my spine causing my back to straighten. I didn’t pay too much attention to the other kid, Inuyasha but I noticed some similarities between the two.

They look so gorgeous, like models; athletic physique, long legs, beautiful hair and clear skin. Their skin was so pale it looked like ice; the boy’s eyes were extremely darker but different.

‘Could they be related?” I thought.

“Brick sit next to Bubbles” the teacher instructed, I was eternally grateful that we had name tags, at the time, on our desks. My body suddenly turned into jelly that felt too heavy to move.

“Hi there, I’m Bubbles” I introduced, this was first time I have been strongly bold to someone let alone a boy. My cheeks were suddenly hot, and my tongue was dry, but I did my best to avoid being awkward. Which was hard since I had a boy haircut, metal wire filled inside my mouth and thick glasses with tape to hold the middle because some kids, i.e. Brat felt it needed to ‘compete my look’. So therefore, the tape in the middle of my glasses.

He finally said in a very robust voice, “Go away”

I had a half of a mind to run for the hills, but I simply smiled and shared my book with him. I needed to make sure he felt welcome here even though half the student body were teasing me and ignored him. I could feel his eyes burning through my neck, so I turned my head to have his eyes burn through my eyes.

“I hope you like it here Brick” I replied, admiring his features; his red hair reminded me of Blossom’s only his was dark. It made me think of fire. And his eyes were blood red that screamed danger—

“Whatcha looking at four eyes”

I gasped at the mega spit ball that landed on my glasses. I looked up to see the green eye boy laughing with the straw in his hand. The entire class went wild with laughter. The teacher continued with the lesson and ignore the obvious events of the other kids following his league by spitting spit balls at me. Leaping out my chair, I ran to the bathroom without missing a beat. I cradled myself in the bathroom stall and cried as I picked the still wet spit balls out of my hair. It was times like this I wished Buttercup would be here and yell at the bullies. She’d probably make them eat it as they apologize to me. Chuckling at the thought, I took a deep breath and exited out the stall to clean the remnants off my glasses. Keeping my sisters in mind, I held my head up and decided to go back in the lion’s den. The only way to survive is to show no fear—which clearly failed. I didn’t want to throw in the towel and go back to homeschooling, after begging the professor I needed to be strong so he wouldn’t take off work. The last semester nearly cost Blossom and Buttercups their housing and if it weren’t for their scholarships, they would have been sent to Citiesville and I couldn’t have that.

“You got this bubs” I whispered. Pushing my shoulders back and holding my head out I walked out the bathroom only to get bumped to the ground.

“Sorry” I muttered.

‘So much for not backing down’ I thought, looking up it was the red eyed boy named Brick towering over me. His shadow cast a dark aura around him. I watched as he shifted his feet making sure his shadow didn’t touch me.

“Watch where you’re going” he muttered, he didn’t move he simply stood there towering over me. I stared at him wondering if it was his way of apologizing or telling me something completely different. Nodding, I picked myself up and noticed how he was still standing in front of me with his hands in his pocket.

“Did you need something?” I asked,

“Butch is an idiot, don’t let him get to you”

I felt myself exhaling a lot of air, not realizing I was unconsciously holding my breath. His deep blood eyes penetrated past my weak walk and could probably see everything inside me. If he wanted, he could kick me down with one look. Yet here he is apologizing for that kid’s behavior.

“He’s your brother” I noted, Brick sighed and twisted his cap to hide his face.

“How did you know” His facial expression stayed the same, but these eyes gave him away when a spark of shock flashed.

“You guys have the same facial features, despite having different color eyes and hair; you act pretty distant when he’s near so you must be the oldest and you flinch, well your eyes darken when I mentioned your relation” I answered “Plus you two have the same last name, so it’s pretty much common sense”

He chuckled softly I couldn’t help but smile too. He turned his baseball cap forward so he could hide his face which probably revealed I was right. I felt like I did something good.

“You’re something special Bubbles” He stated before walking away back to the classroom. I lingered a moment, the smile I had on my face stayed the entire day. I was in such a good mood; I swore my heard skipped a beat. It didn’t bother me that the Powerpunk sisters dropped their yogurt on top of my head along with their assorted toppings. Nothing could ruin the fact that at that moment I knew I was going to be friends with Brick Jojo.

Snapping out of my trip down memory lane. That little kid I met on his first day transformed himself into the man right in front of me. I watched as Brick’s eyes darken and lighten up as he continued to stare at my face. It’ s almost as if he’s searching for something in my eyes. I kept staring at him for some reason my eyes could not look away. I just wanted him to look in my eyes all day while I did the same with him.

“I’m sorry, I just want you to date a girl who’s actually worthy of you” I started.

His eyebrow lifted curious where I was going with my little speech and to be quite frank so was I.

“I hate seeing you” I paused, unsure where I was going with this, some little voice inside my head wanted to scream “I hate seeing you with other girls” but I shook my head and took deep breath. It was weird and gross to think of my best friend that way.

“I hate seeing you with girls’ that don’t deserve you because they only want what you can provide for them” I explained, Brick lifted my chin up watching my messy bun come undone. A few pieces fell from my now sloppy bun to my face. I watched as his eyes sparkle with—something I never knew he possessed—excitement.

‘How come I never knew your eyes did that’ I thought as I felt his eyes reaching inside my soul.

“Brick?” he snapped out of his thoughts and looked at me in a platonic way, it is the same look I’ve grown accustomed to over the years.

“Bubbles you’re— “

He couldn’t finish his thought. The whiff of cinnamon and fear filled his nose and nearly suffocated me, but it also made him forget what he wanted to say. Turning around to see Berserk right behind him with a nervous look on her face and crooked smile resting on her lips. I was quite shocked at her demeanor, normally Berserk would be firm and confident but here she is looking like, a nervous kid. I too wanted to melt from the sight of Berserk, at this very moment she looked innocent.

I felt Brick’s hand drop from my face. Captured by the siren’s presence, I felt disappointed, but I didn’t understand why. Part of me wanted to ask him not to move his hand but it wouldn’t mean anything. His attention was to his ‘dream girl’ of the week. My body felt heated, charged with rage but broke from the way he kept staring at her. It made me feel so inadequate, like I was suddenly invisible.

“Hey Brick” Berserk smiled at him while brushing a piece of hair away from her face.

I watched the girl fix her red ribbons and look at Brick with her unique red eyes. A black hole started to grow inside my stomach. I wanted to pull her ribbons and stuff it in her mouth, but I snapped out of it.

‘What the hell?’ I wondered but I just couldn’t help it. The more I stared at Berserk the bigger that black hole grew in my stomach. I didn’t understand why I felt animosity towards the girl. It didn’t bother me that he was talking to her, but it bothered me how he was giving her his time. Like she was all that mattered, no one else existed; especially not me who was less than three feet away from them.

“Berserk” Brick responded, I watched as she giggled at him and rubbed her arm in a nervous manner.

“I was wondering if you don’t have any plans tonight—no wait you probably do, but if you don’t have a date to Butch’s party would you go with me? She finished.

“And that’s my cue to leave” I slammed my locker shut once the bell gave the second warning bell to head to class.

‘Stupid Berserk and her perfect skin, her stupid perfect crooked smile with her perfect teeth’ I thought as I held my books tight to my body, fearing I would fall apart if I let go.

“Bubbles, wait up!” Brick yelled, I wanted to keep walking and ignore my best friend who probably agreed to go on a date with that perfectly stupid air head.

Stopping at the corner I cling to my books even tighter as a life raft, not ready to tell Brick why I walked off so fast without waiting for him.; I fixed my thick framed glass, with the same tape in the middle, because Brat is nothing if not consistent. As I waited for Brick, I looked at the School’s mirror that is right above the water fountain and closed my eyes quickly after seeing my reflection.

‘Why do I care about my appearance’ I thought.

I knew I didn’t have a perfect smile, my braces made sure of it and my eyesight wasn’t the best because I had to get an even stronger prescription this year. I never have time to do my hair so I always either kept it in a messy bun or in pigtails because I was too busy trying to make straight A’s. And being the perfect daughter at home while the other two perfect sisters lived far away not fearing the hell of Citiesville.

“Why’d you run off?” Brick asked

“I didn’t want to get in the way of your plans with Miss dictator over there” I answered sourly, I felt so childish, but I just hated Berserk more than for the obvious reasons and I don’t know why and that frustrates me even more.

He sighed and shook his head, “Don’t be that way Bubbles.”

“Brick you’ve had your eye on that girl for a few months” I whispered, when he didn’t say anything, I knew I had to make a point.

“I just didn’t want you to miss your chance with her” I added.

“Well too late for that” he answered, I cocked my head to the side confused by his response.

“What do you mean?”

“I told her I was taking you instead” He replied “I couldn’t let my best friend miss an epic Jojo party”

I giggled at Brick’s sudden hospitality and all of my insecurities vanished into thin air—like magic. I suddenly wanted to jump into his arms and hug him for thinking of me. It occurred to me how I should have stayed a little longer to see Berserk’s face when he told her he was taking me instead of her. I felt victorious, like I won the grand prize, like I could accomplish anything.

“So, I’ll pick you up at eight, dress to impress” He told me before ushering me to my Honor’s English Composition class. Smiling I sat in my usual seat and ignored all the teasing remarks of the other kids. All I could think about was my plans to hang out with Brick tonight.

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ragnaofazure · 3 years

Text

Reasons Why.

(BGM)

It was time to pay a visit to someone he really wished to see. The man had not felt the excitement to have a rendezvous with another person in quite a while, he was outright... Eager. After all, he rarely met with anyone directly anymore. A smile stretched across his face, it was refreshing, he was picturing the whole event...

Ah. To be able to experience this set of emotions put some spring to his step. Given his status in the world, anyone found to have connections with him was as good as getting marked, due to that, he gave up hope to form any sort of lasting connections unless it was possible for the other party to remain safe and unseen with anyone else. It was a true price to pay for everything he has done, an unrestorable status in society, unsurprisingly.

Alas, that was but the price to pay for his path, and he knew it well from the beginning. He continued increasing his pace over the outskirts of the city, getting ever so closer to the big mansion, where he was meant to go to his meeting.

About ten minutes later on top of the half an hour of on foot travel, it finally came into view... And that is when he started to run... And then broke into full sprint, faster than any human should go, aiming for that front gate. That grin on his face becoming wider.

(BGM)

Right over the walls, they were already rushing to give him the warm welcome he was expecting, a hail of bullets that were missing the target by an extremely long shot due to the speed he was moving at. It was literal seconds before he shoulder tackled the robust gate and busted it right open with little effort. As it went flying off the thick hinges, all the way to the big fountain not too long a distance from it right behind, smashing it apart considerably. And before the two thugs that went to welcome him ahead of time could do anything, aside from the couple waiting at the main entrance...

They did not see him leap at their higher elevation on the steps on each opposite sides of the gate. One got skewered by huge weapon before pulling out, the other earned a huge diagonal gash from shoulder to hip, both deep and serious injuries that caused immediate collapses.

After watching them fall to the floor in fatal agony with almost simultaneous thuds, should immediate help not be brought to at least one of them, the other two were witnesses and nothing more to the effortless short and brutal work they made of their fellow cohorts. Shaking hands pointed firearms at him, he was unimpressed as he shook the initial scarlet fluid staining the blade, as soon as he was within arm's reach of the two, he had a simple question as he sighed.

"Where is he? You all knew I was coming." He looked smug, as if he had just done nothing wrong whatsoever, “And don't even think about lying, no matter if I respect the loyalty that you could have to the piece of garbage, make it easier on yourselves." Giving a chance, it then came.

'He ran away hours ago!' 'The best, most honking office all the way back!'

‘What are you doing?! Traitor!!' 'Screw him! We're all dying anyway!'

"Only one."

Ragna interrupted, kicking the liar down and through the double door with inhuman force before stomping on his chest, cracking noises echoing before impaling his weapon right between his ribcage, finding the heart after small, painful torture. Turning back to face the one that helped and flashed an honest smile again in a full easy mood change.

"Run now. I'm not chasing, better not see your face ever again if you don't turn a new leaf." Allowing escape, he then turned to the mansion standing before him. Echoes and fear of the spared life fading to the distance...

"The Grim Reaper is here! I suggest only the most loyal to the prick step up! The rest? One chance to start escaping!" Making his callout, he waited at the fancy foyer, right in the center after waltzing in.

"..." And sure enough, some devotees sprang up, jumping over the railing of a second story, armed with japanese swords, pipes, chains, more fierarms... The whole classic variety of criminals. "I hope that's not all of you at once..." And right as he was speaking? One of them took the first swing as he was turning around, addressing them, managing a clean cut from the back of his ear down to the carotid artery, causing his blood to begin flowing and making him grin.

...Yet Ragna still stood. And seconds after?

His wounds began closing like nothing. Collective fear took place before he cracked his neck. "...I should have expected one of you assholes was going to try the cheap shot." He slammed the tip of the huge blade on the floor, metal loudly echoing against carpeted tile.

"Come at me then! All of you in whatever manner you want! You're all that brave and loyal?! Willing to die for nothing?! Huh?! Show it to me!" Calling them out, he waited for the next swing, which was a sickle, aimed straight at his chest, which was immediately deflected, he then took it in hand... And crushed it in half. After letting that sink in, "My turn..." He whispered at the shocked thug, raising a fist then smashing it against their face, the rattling sound as he sent the poor bastard packing resounded as he slammed against the wall with decent impact.

Stretching his hand and wrist, he turned to the baffled rest once more, "Next. All at once. Again, if you don't value your life, keep tossing it. You had your chance to be spared." Throwing out the confident taunt and warning, he then waited for the swarm to congregate around him... Which came out swinging. A hail of bullets, many sharp and blunt weapons swung at him, he obviously could not block all of them, yet... No matter the cut or where, it closed almost instantly, even one landed in his eye. And while that was annoying? It was restoring.

A pipe smashed his head? Cracking the skull? Shook it off, everything within rearranging. It was a small massacre of about twenty men or more surrounding him as they were dropping dead, or being blown away... A loud, violent ranbat of one man being surrounded to the very end.

(BGM)

Soon enough, it all was calm as he momentarily caught his breath, lifeless or gravely injured men sprawled at his feet, few more decided to try and attack, so he could only assume everyone in the back came forth. Those were all of them. A bloodbath. There was no other way to call that.

"I ultimately respect your devotion... But it could have been much better placed." He slowly returned his sword to it’s resting place behind him. After a couple of minutes with his head lowered... It was time to find who he came to see. A tour of what was now a ghost house.

Making it through many a kind of hallways, rooms, all the regal household until he was kicking one last door that stood out. Velvet red, gold around the frame, egotistical initial... This was it. And sure enough, there he was. Sitting like it was nothing.

(BGM)

“You didn't run? Facing this like a man?" Immediately, he asked as he slowly waltzed in. The man he was after was the head of a real bad mafia, adhered to no standards. No exception to colaterals, no real grace periods... No mercy even to children, the little ones were outright trafficked or used as bargaining chips. All of this? It was a recipe to absolutely piss off the big bad considered as Ragna, and it was why he was excited all along. To kill him as deserved in his book.

‘You would have tracked me down easily, no matter how far I ran.'

"Heh, I see any big wig has the head right on he shoulders enough." Fake compliment, but still, outrun him? Very few get away. But he was grinning, this bastard was... grinning? To what he narrowed his eyes in immediate reaction, there was literally no reason to be happy about this.

"...What's funny? Proud of the little dirty legacy you're leaving behind? A goddamn pile of unnecessary corpses, and that's due to innocents and those who were never involved, you lack any standards unlike most other leaders, a bad kind of iron fist."

Fist balled in anger as he retold everything, a quiet, clear anger that could burn so much...

'And where do you get off talking to me about morals? Grim Reaper? Your body count is above the goddamn four digits... And that's an estimate.'

‘You figured: “Oh, I'm no longer bad but I don't want to get jailed! I'll just pluck every other bad that will only keep appearing in this world!” ...Give the act a break. Even you know you would make a much better life committing to the underworld all over again.'

"..." No words, which caused the fellow criminal to laugh, it was true... But there were reasons why he didn't. He reaffirmed his gaze, a piercing glare, unbreakable... "There's a difference." He responded, "I know how this whole world works... And you are true evil."

"Your kind normally has standards. They know who is supposed to get what they deserve under any circumstance, you? You don't care. You are greedy, you tossed all your men at me as if they were disposeable, most likely forced because they don't know better." Scoffing, he continued on.

"The only reason you grew was due you having no limits, no matter what, and that... That's exactly why I hate." And what circled back to his reasons. "Evil is unremoveable, after all... I am here. But you? That goes beyond it."

The comment caused the fat cat in suit to grimace, 'That still doesn't make you or anything around you better, you are still the most hated man in the world, the chain of command that comes clean up takes your credit. They outright know your MO.'

“And?" He immedaitely interrupted, “To what he was surprised, "I don't care." Then confused, "I don't give a shit how many times your particular kind reappears either... I'll root you out, our grime and stain will always exist, but you? You have no place in this world..."

“You are not remotely human. And that is what makes us different... You threw that away and became a real monster, and you know what? I GODDAMN exactly knows what it is like!!" It was then he was tightly gripping him by that white, fancy suit, rage coursing his body...

"Evil is necessary, but not you, and if I can cull it to make the right one remain? That's all I need. I don't need thanks, glory, forgiveness... None of that. I only want to do what's right."

'You are out of your mind...' Shaking his head, laughed in disbelief, unable to comprehend how could someone just do and accept that... Such selfless, thankless life while treated like scum of the world beyond even his kind...

"...And you lost yours. Just like any heart." It was the moment weapon was raised, pressed against his chest... "...Yet you still can bleed. But not enough to make up for it all." Those being his words, the fear became apparent in his face at long last.

A solid, swift impalement, right in the chest, squeals filling the air. And this time? He could not resist the desire to twist the blade for good measure this time too. Until he stopped moving for good, he never pulled the weapon out...

After the deed was done, he sprawled the corpse on his fancy wood desk, perfect to be discovered by said authorities that would be sure to arrive within hours. Taking deep breaths, he would begin relaxing as the last spill of fresh blood dripped off the weapon.

(BGM)

Looking out the big window to his side, the day was beautiful outside in contrast to the fatality fest that was this whole development. And this was far from the first time as implied.

"...I can't ever go back, but this is all the good I can do. I am the big evil. And I erase what I think should not exist." Repeating that, he finally returned his blade to the resting position behind him. As he looked at the vast sky, opening the window, gentle breeze blowing from the ocean nearby despite his still messy state from the massacre...

"The monster who kills monsters, one said that one time... I don't care what they call me. I don't care if it's thankless." Determined voice spoke out loud to no one but himself.

"If you want to do what you believe is right, stick to it, don't expect happiness, gratitude, nothing... It is why I will continue calming the raging waves of the vast ocean known as evil... For I am the pushing force from it to begin with."

"Until then... That is also what I can do to counterweight not only what I've done, but what I am." The hint of sadness was heavy, but one of acceptance, he was not truly lost... But determined. Unbroken. The evil itself to keep it's balance.

That was who he was. That is why he chose to destroy other evils he deemed too much worse than himself in terms of morals and threats to life.

All evil began and ended with him, he was the one to judge the evil...

Until his last day.

#ic #ic musings #drabble #drabbles #ic drabble #ic drabbles #tw blood #tw murder

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hija-del-trueno · 4 years

Text

Sacrifice

Anidala Week 2020 - Day 2: Canon Divergence

Authors Note: Sorry everyone. I am like 21 min late to post but honestly this was the first idea I had in my head since I read the AnidalaWeek prompts and I kept having so many rewrites because it wasn’t too Anidala, butttt I think I got it right now. Make sure to like, send a comment, anything. Thanks!

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There is no emotion, there is Peace.

“Don't do this. Don't shut me out, let me help you”

There is no Ignorance, there is Knowledge.

“You don’t know the power of the Dark side.”

There is no passion, there is serenity.

“I am a Jedi, like my father before me.”

There is no chaos, there is harmony.

“I feel conflict in you, it’s tearing you apart.”

There is no death, there is the Force.

“I know what I have to do, but I don't know if I have the strength to do it.”

Love is sacrifice.

“Wake up!” Anakin sat up startled. Soon he got up and packed his simple bag. He left Varykino that night. He left Naboo and bought himself a ride back to Coruscant and back to the Jedi Temple.

The next morning Padme Amidala, in her white wedding dress, went to look for her betrothed only to find him gone.

The year thereafter they did not see nor speak to each other. Except that one time they both were walking in the Senate hallways and she had walked straight ahead with her head held high, as if he did not exist. He would be lying if he didn’t say it hurt him just a tad bit more than he would have liked.

But the Clone Wars kept Anakin busy. Soon after he was knighted, he was made General of the 501st. Ahsoka came then soon after.

While his multiple responsibilities surely kept him at bay, there were still nights when he’d look into the sky and hope that wherever Padme was that she would one day forgive him.

The next time he saw her was when she helped him and Ahsoka with the Hutts, but truthfully he couldn’t really count that. She had hologrammed in and with a few words rescued them from their demise. He thanked her but she simply nodded and disappeared. At least Anakin knew she was willing to rescue him.

Then it became his turn to rescue her when she was on board the Malevolence. But again, Padme only spoke curt replies, and simply thanked him and Obi-Wan at the end of the mission. It seemed he would forever be subjected to her cold shoulder. Obi-Wan simply patted his back.

The next day as he was climbing into his Starfighter, Anakin turned around to meet a familiar beep. R2-D2’s projector light turned on to show him a message.

I kept your droid, so I guess you should keep mine. -Padme

Anakin smiled, “Hop on Artoo.”

And so it seemed that they went back and forth in rescuing each other throughout the war. The Blue Shadow Virus. Then the Zillo Beast. Clovis. Alderaan. By then they were in speaking terms, and Anakin was glad to have a friend in Padme. He’d lend Ahsoka to her many times. There was Mon Cala soon after, and then she’d represent Ahsoka in her trial.

Padme had done so well defending Ahsoka that the council allowed her to become a Knight simply as reparations.

And then there had been that mess with Clovis, again. Truthfully, Anakin was a bit disappointed of Clovis’ deceit and eventual demise. If there had been anyone who could possibly be a good candidate for Padme, it might have been him.

They had been quite the quadruple, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Padme and himself. They had survived the last three years if only because of their friendship.

Sometimes he caught Padme staring at him from the corner of his eye but he would turn away and pay no mind. Anakin had also learned much in the past three years. How to be at peace. How to rein his passions. Patience.

“You have become a far greater Jedi than I could hope to become,” Obi-Wan told him once. Little did Obi-Wan know that what Anakin saw on Naboo long ago had been one of the far greatest lessons from perhaps one of the greatest teachers.

It should have been to no one’s surprise that all four of them found out the truth of Darth Sidious’ identity around the same time. Ahsoka had gone to Mandalore to capture Maul, only to come rushing back with the news. Obi-Wan, similarly, had come from defeating Grievous. Padme, Senator Organa, and Senator Mothma had discovered incriminating evidence, which included a list of orders that could have been carried out by the clones and the chip that was embedded in their brain. And Anakin, well he found out because the Force revealed it to him when he was sitting next to Palpatine in an opera show. It might have also been because Palpatine shared with him the tale of Darth Plagueis.

“Alright Padme and Ahsoka go to the Senate. You must have an emergency meeting revealing Palpatine as Sidious and the evidence. Obi-Wan and I will go seek other Jedi masters who will help us against him.”

They all nodded and hugged. Padme stared at him, if only a little bit longer, in case it was the last time.

“May the Force be with us,” he stated and then turned to the matter at hand.

Sidious killed Masters Fisto, Kolar, and Tiin in seconds. The battle intensified and soon enough Windu was down and Obi-Wan was critically injured. It seemed all hope was lost when Sidious disabled him with Force Lightning, but it happened again, just like in his vision long ago. Except this time, it was not the girl, it was him being enlightened by the Jedi past and present. Calling to him his and Obi-Wan’s lightsabers, Anakin defeated Darth Sidious. He watched his body disintegrate and turn to dust in the Coruscanti skyline.

While Anakin and Obi-Wan fought Sidious, Padme and Ahsoka presented the evidence to the Galactic Senate. With the help of the Loyalist Committee, Padme was able to sway many of the systems when she called for vote of no-confidence against Palpatine. Bail Organa was chosen as the new Chancellor of the Republic and that same time he ordered Ahsoka and the 501st to capture and bring in all the remaining leaders of the Separatists. All the droid army was shut down by next morning. All was right in the galaxy.

There was a huge celebration in Coruscant. All the galaxy rejoiced on behalf of the end of the war and those who understood more rejoiced for the end of the Sith. A grand parade stretched out leading up to the Senate building. All the clone troopers marched joyously, and at the front of the parade, the four heroes.

After the parade, continued a ceremony of recognition. Anakin, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, and Padme were awarded medals of bravery for their heroic acts throughout the war and its ending. The celebration continued with a grand ball. Truthfully, Anakin was tired. The war and now this final battle weighed on him. He made a silent escape but realized someone else was too.

“Padme,” he ran up to her. “Wait. Where are you headed to?”

She pointed to 500 Republica which was a bit ahead. “Home.”

“You’re not taking a speeder.”

“You know this whole time I’ve usually walked home and there was a war. I can’t imagine what danger lies ahead now,” she smirked.

“Let me walk you.”

She simply nodded and the two headed off into the night.

Anakin cast a glance at her. It seemed her beauty continued to grow with age, or perhaps it was the glow of the Coruscanti moon that made her glimmer to him.

“What will you do now?” He asked.

She continued walking quietly, not seeming to find an answer.

“What I always do. Follow my duty to the Republic”

Anakin pondered for a bit. “While you are essential to the Republic, there might not be that much duty to attend to now.”

She scoffed, “You’d be surprised. It’s moments like these where the next evil takes an opportunity. Besides there are multiple things to take care of: clone rights, the syndicates….slavery.” She glanced back at him to gauge his understanding.

“All wonderful things but I am also sure there are multiple suitors who have just been waiting for this opportunity for the war to end to -“

She laughed “-to what?”

He stared at her. He didn’t understand what was so funny to her. “Well, I mean, look at Rush Clovis. Despite everything, the man loved you.”

She scoffed again. “Rush Clovis never loved me. He was infatuated of me and was an opportunist that thought he would get his way with me.”

It was best to stay quiet now, besides they were approaching 500 Republica.

Once they reached the door to the lift, Padme stopped in front of him. “Thank you for accompanying me.”

He bowed his head. “Your welcome.” This was it. No more missions meant no more rescuing her, which might mean less contact. Their friendship was a bit awkward at times. Perhaps this would be the end. She turned around and walked toward the lift and so did he turn around as well toward the Temple.

“Anakin, wait.”

He lifted his head and turned around….only to a resounding SLAP!

Kriff could she slap! He lifted his gaze only to find Padme with angry tears storming her eyes.

He lifted his other hand in peace. “Now hold on, I thought we had surpassed this.”

“Anakin Skywalker, I have never surpassed this. Wartime creates necessity But now the war is over, so now I can say my piece.” She gulped for air. “You will NEVER know how embarrassed I felt the day you left. You will NEVER know how many tears I shed that night and the following.”

Her tears broke and fell as streams across her cheek. “I loved you and you broke my heart. But it’s my fault isn’t it? I fell for your charade of you feeling the same for me.”

“I am truly, deeply, sorry Padme,” he whispered. Being close to her, he could feel her heartbreak through the Force. It hurt him too. Tears threatened to form in his eyes as well.

She brushed her own tears and lifted her chin. “All I want to know is why?” her voice wavered. “Why couldn’t you stay?”

If Anakin told her, would she believe him. He looked down at his boots.

“Please,” she begged.

He looked to her apartment. “It’s a long story, maybe we should head inside.”

——

“So this young man….the Force brought him to you?”

“Yes.” He nodded. They sat in her veranda as he explained how the Force had brought this young man who then whisked him away on a vision that seemed like a journey of a lifetime. Stuck in the world between worlds, Ben found the opportune time to take Anakin out of his world and show him the chaos he would cause if he carried on with his attachment. It seemed like ages, but really there were glimpses of horror, pain, suffering for his generations. There were glimmers of hope too but for Anakin those were eclipsed by the destruction he had caused. Coming back to the world between worlds Ben had explained that love itself existed amongst sacrifice and that Anakin would need to let go if he were to stop himself from becoming evil.

“Who was this man?”

There was no simple way to explain that to her. What she did not know, might not hurt her. “I’m not sure. Perhaps a Jedi past or present. I never asked.”

She looked at her hands that laid on her lap.

He stood up and kneeled before her. “I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t know how. I saw you die…at my hand.”

Anakin took her hands in his. “I have loved you ever since you entered Watto’s shop. And when we were in Geonosis, I loved you. And when I told you we would marry in Naboo, I loved you. But then the Force revealed to me the truth, this lesson I had to learn. My trial. You couldn’t come. You mustn’t.”

Padme stared at him intently. “It is because I loved you that I left you. To protect you from myself. So you would not be used as a pawn to Sidious against me.”

“And now?”

He cocked his head to the side, puzzled.

“You said you loved me in Geonosis and on Naboo.” He could feel her hands tremble. “Do you love me now or no longer?”

His hands let go of hers and reached to cradle her face. Tears streamed down her face and his thumbs across her cheek tried to brush them off.

“Padme, I will always love you. Yesterday, today and tomorrow.” And as soon as he said that she leaned in to kiss him. He was caught off guard but quickly melted his lips to hers. They kissed passionately. More so than when they were being brought to death in Geonosis. More so than when they fell in love in Naboo. This kiss represented all the ones that were not given.

When they broke apart, Padme held his face. “My heart has ached every night not knowing. Anakin there is no other….there is no other man I have loved as much as I love you.” She kissed him again and again, as if she were to never see him again.

He held her in his arms and they fell asleep like that. When the morning rose, Padme was surprised to still find him there, his arms around her. Her finger traced the scar across his eye. Slowly he stirred awake.

He lessened his grip around her and stretched. The sofa on the veranda wasn’t the most comfortable but he did not want to ruin the moment.

Padme lifted her head and stared intently at him. “What does the Force say now?”

He smiled. Ever since last night the Force voiced - no, screamed its harmonious approval. “Well I have defeated Sidious. I am sure other evil will arise….”

She propped an eyebrow. He chuckled, “But I think I have learned my lesson.”

Anakin saw her huff and stare at the rise and fall of his chest. Suddenly she crawled to be parallel to his face and kissed him.

“Anakin Skywalker, if the Force allows, then will you please marry me?”

—

Anakin was not a fan of medical bays but this time he gave in. He wanted to be present. Padme stood next to him squeezing his arm. She was nervous, she wanted to be inside. And Luke…well Luke just kept pacing.

He cocked his head at Ahsoka. Can you keep your apprentice in check?

She glared back. He’s your son, Skyguy.

Suddenly the doors bust open and Solo appeared. “He’s here everyone!” The bundle nestled in his arms stirred at his outburst.

Anakin rolled his eyes.

“Oops. This is going to take some getting used to,” he whispered.

Han moved closer to him and Padme first. “I want you to meet Ben.”

Anakin motioned to give him the child and Han carefully placed him in his arms. He was a longer baby than he remembered Luke and Leia being, lighter too. He had Leia’s nose and beautiful brown eyes, although his facial features looked like Solo. It seemed the perfect combination of them both. Padme stared lovingly at her first grandson but the baby held its gaze to Anakin.

Anakin smiled. At long last he was here again, his savior from the dark. His teacher on love and selflessness.

He brought the babies head to his lips and pressed a kiss on his forehead.

“Thank you.”

#anidalaweek2020 #star wars #anidala #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #ben solo

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edmund-pevensie-just-king · 5 years

Text

Heavy Weighs the Crown || Chapter 1: Captive

Summary: The "Golden Age" of Narnia was not without its dark times. Shortly after their reign began, Edmund was kidnapped by an unknown enemy. Tortured, starved, and threatened with death at every waking moment, will the Just King remain strong, or will he break under the cruel hand of his captor?

Tag list (dm, respond to the taglist post, or send an ask to be added): @athomeinnarnia

Chapter warnings: Kidnapping, threats of violence, threats of torture, self hatred, self deprecation, and crying

Ship(s): None (yet ;) )

It was dark. And cold. That much Edmund could tell. His hands were bound tightly behind him, and his ankles were bound and tied to a post. He could feel wet, cold stones beneath him. The room he was being held in had no windows and smelled of rot and decay. There were no other occupants, just himself, and the only sounds to keep him company was the constant drippings of water from the ceiling hitting the floor and his own ragged breathing. The Just King was surprised to not find himself gagged. Edmund tried to move, but could only hiss in pain as his sore muscles screamed at the attempt. Dejected, he rested his head on the cold stone wall, shuddering at the slimy consistency of the moisture on it, but too exhausted to do anything.

Edmund couldn't quite remember how he got here. He knew that he and Peter had been out hunting while their sisters were taking care of some things back at the castle. Peter had wanted the two of them to go alone, together, spend some time with each other. Edmund remembered that Peter had been trying to tell him something, something important when they were attacked by a group of bandits. if they truly were bandits. It was more likely they were some kind of enemy of Narnia, more humans that lived on the outskirts of the land.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” a voice drawled lazily, capturing the young king’s attention. Three men had entered the room. The speaker appeared to be the oldest, with greying hair and eyes sharp with malice and cunning. His chin jutted out awkwardly. The second was younger, with an almost identical face, a fat nose, coal-black eyes, and black hair hanging in a greasy mop. The third looked to be about Edmund’s age, late teens, and not nearly as excited to be there as the other two men. He stayed behind them, his tousled brown hair hanging in front of his eyes as he bowed his head.

“What do you want?” Edmund said, his voice raspy as it forced its way through his parched through. The two older men laughed. The sound was like metal scraping together, sending shivers down the young king’s spine and making him shudder.

“Information, of course! What else would we want from the likes of you?” the middle man with the greasy hair sneered. Edmund’s heart thudded in his chest, but he still scoffed.

“And what, pray tell, makes you think I’ll tell you anything?” Edmund asked with a small smile. These were bandits, petty thieves. They weren’t worth his time. Edmund’s smug train of thought faded when he saw the evil look in the older man’s eyes.

“You betrayed your family once, *Mio amico, why wouldn’t you do it again? Besides, if you do decide to keep your mouth shut, my son Pietro and I have our ways of forcing it out of you,” he said with a dark chuckle, and Pietro’s smirk widened. Edmund shrunk under their gazes. Both men let out another laugh before Pietro turned to the young man in the corner.

“Matteo, *porta l'ospite Nella sua stanza,” Pietro barked, grabbing the man by the arm and dragging him towards Edmund. Matteo stumbled for a moment before quickly grabbing Edmund, untying his feet and hauling him up off the ground and taking him by the back of the shirt. Edmund cried out in surprise and pain as he was forced from the small room, dragged down a dim, filthy hallway. Edmund fought against the other man’s grip, but he was too weak to even get one hand free. His stomach plummeted. He must have been drugged; his strength had never failed him before. Or perhaps he had just grown weak.

“You will be here for the duration of your stay unless my father or grandfather moves you,” Matteo said emotionlessly as he shoved Edmund into an even smaller, darker room. Edmund’s legs buckled underneath him and he had to hold out his bound hands in front of him to catch himself. Matteo grimaced and he gasped as his left wrist twisted unnaturally and cracked loudly. He groaned and clutched his arms to his chest, sucking in air through his teeth. Matteo hesitated before slamming the door shut, locking it with a resounding clang. Edmund swallowed, his face pale and clammy as his wrist throbbed with pain. He tried not to think about the fact that it probably wouldn’t be the worst thing that would happen to him while he was here. Edmund only prayed that Peter had made it back to the Palace safely.

* * *

Peter stumbled into Cair Paravel, clutching his bleeding side and fighting off the blurriness of his vision. He had to get to Oreius. He couldn’t let himself blackout. He faintly heard the sound of footsteps and shouting, and his sisters’ panicked voices. He looked up groggily, grabbing onto the person closest to him.

“Edmund...they’ve taken Edmund, he’s in danger,” Peter said, his voice slurred as he became more and more dependent on the person he was leaning against to stay upright. The person, who happened to be Mr. Tumnus, half carried and half supported the injured king through the expansive hallways of the palace.

“A search party has already been sent out, your majesty, as soon as you came inside without your brother. Now come, your injuries must be-”

“No!” Peter interrupted the faun, somehow getting out of his grip and stumbling back towards the doors. “If there is a search party I should be with them! Please…” Peter’s voice trailed off and he closed his eyes as a wave of exhaustion hit him. Tumnus was at his side once more, and so were Lucy and Susan, who had stayed quiet when Tumnus had been speaking.

“You won’t be able to help Edmund while you’re in this state, Peter,” Susan said gently, taking her brother by the arm. “Let’s get you to the infirmary. You’re as white as a sheet,” she continued, fussing over him slightly and leading him to the infirmary, a hand on his back and the other holding onto him. Lucy grabbed Peter’s hand for comfort and let him lean against her, still small but strong enough to hold her brother’s weight. As the two Queens led the High King to the palace’s hospital, Tumnus went off to join the search party for the Just King.

“Anything could be happening to him right now,” Peter rasped, gritting his teeth in pain as Susan helped him into the bed the nurses provided for them. “He could be being interrogated, or tortured, or-”

“Shh, it’s alright,” Lucy said soothingly, cupping her brother’s cheek and kissing his forehead. Peter hadn’t even noticed he was crying until Lucy gently wiped his tears away. He closed his eyes and laid back in the bed, his hands shaking slightly as he tried to slow his tears.

“There- There were so many of them, I couldn’t stop them, they just came and grabbed him and they were too strong, I couldn’t fight them,” Peter whimpered, his shoulders shaking as he began to sob. “I lost him again. S-Susan, I lost him again.” Peter was sobbing uncontrollably now, hiding his face with his hands in shame. Both Susan and Lucy sat on the edge of the bed, Susan taking one of Peter’s hands and gripping it tightly while Lucy wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder.

“It’s not your fault, Peter,” Susan said, her own voice beginning to tremble. “He’s going to be alright. He’s strong; whatever is happening, Edmund will be able to get through it,” she said. Her words did nothing to reassure the distraught king.

“It should’ve been me,” Peter cried out. “Edmund has been through enough in this place! It should’ve been me!” he wailed, soul wrought with torment. Lucy’s eyes filled with tears and she held on to Peter tighter. Susan joined her little sister in embracing their oldest brother, gently stroking his hair. Peter’s body shook his sobs and he cried himself to exhaustion, too weak to even hold on to Lucy’s hands. The two Queens pulled away, letting Peter rest back against the pillows. Hiccuping and taking a shuddering breath, the young man began to speak until a nurse bustled over, carrying his basket of supplies.

“I apologize, your majesties, but I must be alone to inspect the High King. As soon as I am finished you may come back inside,” the dwarf said apologetically, bowing deeply to the two sisters until his beard touched the ground. Lucy kissed Peter’s cheek and Susan gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s quite alright, we understand. We’ll be back, Peter,” Susan said. The King simply closed his eyes tiredly and nodded, his face still stained with tears. Susan took her little sister’s hand and led her out of the room, standing outside the door and letting go to fold her arms across her chest.

“Do you think Edmund’s alright?” Lucy asked quietly, looking up at Susan with her sweet, innocent eyes. The Gentle Queen fought back tears, looking away for a moment before turning back to her sister.

“I don’t know, Lucy. We can only hope and pray to Aslan for his safety.” And she left it at that.

*Mio Amico - my friend (Italian)

*porta l'ospite Nella sua stanza - take the guest to his room (Italian)

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hanmajoerin · 4 years

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This is not a drill, I repeat this is not a drill 🚨!

Chapter six of 1095 Days Without You, “Thirty-Two Days Without You”, has been published on Fanfiction.net and AO3 (and if links to websites aren’t your thing, the chapter is posted below for your viewing).

If you haven’t read 1095 Days Without You yet, there is no time like the present to start. The fic is a drabble series highlighting moments during the three year separation period where Kagome realizes that a world without InuYasha isn’t one she can call home.

Chapter Six: Thirty-Two Days Without You

“Hey, Kagome!” InuYasha barked from the opposite end of the hallway and Kagome’s shoulders slumped, her brand new blue blazer too stiff to imitate the motion. It was hard to believe that she discovered the correct wish, purified the Sacred Jewel, and returned through the well with InuYasha over a month ago. Life certainly changed for her—for all of their friends—and Kagome was happy to volunteer her drastic transformation from middle schooler fretting over an evil half-demon and high school entrance exams to a high schooler predicting her friend’s next comment with almost psychic accuracy. ‘InuYasha’s picked you up for the third time this week; things are so serious,’ Kagome thought to herself as Ayumi tucked a small chuckle behind the back of her hand.

“This is the third time this week,” Ayumi said, that small laugh peeking out from between her fingers. Kagome groaned and, honestly, she didn’t care if InuYasha heard it. If he did, the sheen in his amber eyes hardly showed it as he stopped in front of the two school girls. Ayumi landed a playful jab to Kagome’s arm, turning her focus to the half-demon. “I was just about to tell Kagome that you picking her up is so sweet.”

In typical InuYasha fashion, InuYasha turned his nose to the ceiling. “Well, I wouldn’t have to come ‘n get her if she didn’t take so damn long to leave,” he grumbled, a contradictory haze of pink spreading across the bridge of his nose.

Kagome rolled her eyes.“Okay, okay—let’s just go home already,” she carped, placing her hands against his back and pushing him down the hallway. InuYasha’s feet scrambled to keep up with the motion but the longer the three congregated, the more likely it was for whispers of the temperamental delinquent boy—not student—to finally reach her teachers. It wasn’t that Kagome was ashamed to be seen with InuYasha. As a matter of fact, the truth was far from it. These new days of peace were overflowing with late-night kisses, confessions, touches, and conversations. Yes, Kagome was confident that if her life changed in any other way, it would be a nightmare.

Still, InuYasha had a lot of learning to do when it came to the customs of the Modern Era. The teachers of this school would never know he was a half-demon from the past. And that’s why they'd forbid him from entering the building if they thought he was just a boy. Kagome loved InuYasha, but even the thought of reasoning with him on the matter gave her a headache.

Kagome turned her head back to Ayumi. “Meet you at the train station tomorrow?”

-X-

The overall frigid A/C in Seiyu Supermarket had nothing on the teeth-chattering Arctic tundra that its frozen meat and seafood section omitted. Kagome was relieved that she and InuYasha managed to come out on the other side after thirty bone-chilling seconds.

“Where’s the ramen, Kagome?” InuYasha asked instantly, nearly leaping in the air as he turned around to face her. Excitement exuberated from the tips of his white fuzzy ears all the way his pointed toes. Clearly, the extra cold atmosphere hadn��t affected him. Must be a half-demon perk, and those billowing pants.

Instead of answering her boyfriend, Kagome found herself drawn to the easygoing smirk he sported. Without Naraku hovering over him, InuYasha’s shoulders seemed lighter; his smiles more genuine. He looked at her with these wide, golden eyes that couldn’t possibly know hardship.

The schoolgirl turned priestess hoped these grocery store trips Mama made them take would be a part of their future forever.

Even though a forever with InuYasha was a wonderful fantasy to build in her mind, the present unfolded before them both and there was ramen waiting. Kagome shook her head and took InuYasha’s hand, leading the way. InuYasha boldly tangled his fingers between hers, all while continuing to gape at their surroundings. “How does your world have so much food?”

“Distributors?” Kagome answered, albeit not confidently.

InuYasha plunged his focus back down to her eye level. “Dis—what?”

Kagome waved him off, pointing to several long, packed shelves. “Well, never mind that InuYasha, look: ramen!”

Kagome’s world enchanted InuYasha; the unadulterated merriment and unabashed exploration he’d taken to shown while he vigorously inspected ramen flavors. It reminded her about his habit of wandering through the halls of Yosono High. She had to at least try getting him to stop. While she pondered the best way to approach the topic, she realized that it felt like hours since they left school which was strange. It had only been minutes. She couldn’t explain it, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t attempt asking InuYasha to change their after school meeting place.

“You know you could wait outside for me,” Kagome started.

Without missing a beat or tearing his attention away from scanning for the right flavor, InuYasha simply stated, “If I wait outside, you’ll just get distracted.”

“That’s not true! You’re going to get me in trouble,” Kagome huffed.

“Haven’t yet.”

Like a chest puffed out in pride, Kagome’s bottom lip protruded. Only she wanted to draw InuYasha’s focus to it so he could see her absolutely pouting.

A light of recognition sparked in his eyes and for a split second, Kagome believed he had a tidbit to add to their conversation. Of course, she ended up watching InuYasha grab four cups of ramen—two in each hand—from seemingly opposite ends of the shelves instead.

“InuYasha,” Kagome whined.

“Yes?” He asked, lowering all of the styrofoam cups into their already full green basket.

Maybe it was the way he had answered her with such gentle sincerity or maybe it was because she missed him so much that waltzing into a potential argument—Wait. She missed InuYasha. The idea sent her reeling backward.

“I—I, I miss you, InuYasha,” she stuttered, brows furrowing together. “How is it possible that I miss you when we’ve spent every single day together since we defeated Naraku and the Sacred Jewel?”

“The Sacred Jewel?” InuYasha asked, cocking his head to the side, appearing way too cool. How was he this calm? Couldn’t he hear how quickly her heart was beating—it shook her veins with absolute force. That was when Kagome realized it.

“The Sacred Jewel.”

With a resounding beat, her best friend and their entire lives faded into infinite darkness.

“Sacred Jewel!” Kagome shouted, eyes searching for a familiar sight. Soon thereafter, as if calling out its name was the same as summoning it, the Jewel appeared with the arrow she shot a few moments before Naraku passed. “Why did you bring me here?”

“You really thought that you could defeat me?”

“But InuYasha and I—”

“InuYasha was never here,” the Jewel cut her off. The choir of demons speaking within continued, nearly paralyzing the priestess.“He’s never coming.”

What the jewel was claiming didn’t make sense. Kagome swore she already lived through this experience. Despite all of the odds, InuYasha rescued her and she went home. They went home. She already endured this awful limbo, she’d endured the taunting. She spent three days alone. “No, that can’t be true!” If he needed to, InuYasha would find a way to her once more because the girl who overcame time and the boy who was just overcome were much larger than any jewel.

“Don’t you understand? This is where you’re meant to be,” The Sacred Jewel insisted and it paused, maybe anticipating a gasp from Kagome. She remained silent. “Well, we showed you a vision of what your life could be...”

“What are you talking about?” Kagome asked and it was then that she caught sight of retired green and white fabric. ‘No way...’

“Would you like to return to the world you saw?” Kagome’s body erupted into a cold sweat, and as she clutched her fists, she realized her bow was gone. There was nothing here. “All you have to do is wish for it and you can return.”

“InuYasha!” Kagome wailed. InuYasha and her life together hadn’t been an illusion. There was no way the Sacred Jewel showed her another vision. If it was trying to get Kagome to make a wish, she’d refuse. Especially if wishing meant she’d lose InuYasha.

“InuYasha!” The high schooler called out again without any response. The Sacred Jewel stopped taunting her. “What have you done?” She asked, voice shaking from nerves. No answer. Kagome’s breath quickened. This wasn’t right. There was no way that she was still trapped.

“InuYasha!” She screamed, tears pooling at the corner of her eyes. She missed him so much.

The jewel faded into black but Kagome hadn’t noticed. The only thing that mattered was finding a spec of red, a dash of stark white hair, a peek of amber eyes that glowed. The darkness was consuming her as she waited for InuYasha. Just the sound of his voice would put her at ease. She just needed to talk to InuYasha. If only she could hear him. “InuYasha...” Her tears seared her cheeks and without warning, an even sharper pain struck her in the middle of her back. It sent straight into the light.

“InuYasha!” Kagome exclaimed, gripping the sides of her desk and throwing her body into an unsteady standing position.

The cringing sound of 32 chairs screeched against the floor as 33 pairs of eyes, including Ms. Suzuki’s, faced Kagome. The high schooler’s breathing slowed, but her heartbeat skyrocketed. “Higurashi,” Ms. Suzuki began, rearranging her glasses so they laid higher on the bridge of her nose.“Hallway—now.”

“Yes ma’am,” Kagome rushed to say, cheeks turning the same shade of red as the Robe of the Fire Rat.

#hanmajo speaks #about InuYasha!#Kagome #InuYasha #InuKag #fanfiction

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butmomilovepeter · 5 years

Text

burn up with the water, the floods are on the plains

read on ao3?

It’s probably the dumbest photo he’s ever taken. The certificate was upside down, the bunny ear were way off, and both of their faces were goofy as ever.

So, obviously he had it framed.

It feels heavy when he picks it up. Like it hold more than just a plastic frame.

Peter was dead. He’s been dead for a good while now. But he couldn’t get past it. There were times, when he closed his eyes and tried to sleep, where the frightened boy’s last words would replay slowly in his ears. Where he would have to get up and wash his hands because he could feel the dust on them.

He couldn’t move on, and he hated it. It was more than just the fate of the world. It was Peter, it was all Peter.

“Tony.” Pepper’s voice enters the room softly. She looked beautiful as ever, hair up and wispy.

Tony kind of had to get over it soon, considering he had a kid of his own on the way.

(He was my own kid—)

“Hey, Pep. How you feeling?” He asks.

She smiles softly. “Like crap. Nothing new.”

She comes over and wraps her arms around his torso. It’s nice to feel her safe in his arms. There were so many moments up there in the empty of space, when he thought he’d never feel this feeling again. It was one of those times that lately he’s been able to find light in the dark.

“Tony, I have news,” she said, still within the hug.

“And what’s that?”

He felt her breath on his neck. “It’s a boy. The baby is a boy.”

Tony feels his stomach flare. “We’re having a boy?”

Pepper nods. “Just thought you could use some good news today.”

Tony smiles. “Thank you for telling me.”

And there they stood, arm in arm, in the quiet of the kitchen.

Steve Rogers was downstairs. He wasn’t his enemy. Not even if he was pretentious as ever, he was the good guy. He lost too.

Clint seemed the most distraught. He lost, and he lost badly. He didn’t have to say it, you could just tell. The only one who seemed to know anything about it was Nat, and even she seemed distant.

But they were working on it. Slowly, bit by bit, they were coming back together.

And now, with Carol Danvers at their side, there wasn’t time to fail.

“Hey.” Pepper’s voice was light. “What are you thinking about?”

Tony thinks for a moment. “Baby names.”

“Baby names?” Pepper says with a laugh. “Can I hear them?”

“They’re kinda embarrassing. If I’m honest.” Tony replies.

“They can’t be that bad.”

“Well...I think they should have some importance to you, and all of mine are centered around me-”

“Lets name him Peter.” She interrupts.

Tony stops dead in tracks, because it’s the one thing he didn’t think she would say.

“Pep,” he cracks out. “You sure?”

She takes his face in her hands. They’re soft and delicate and warm against the cold of his face.

She doesn’t look happy. No one looks happy, exactly. Not when there’s still a bit of dust coating everything; not when there were children’s graves and memorials were littered around the cities.

But she looked content and oh so beautiful, and in that moment, there’s a small fleeting hope that things could stay that way.

“I’m positive. I...I like the name.” She resounds.

Tony smiles back at her sadly, gently turning back to pick up the picture frame. He strokes the side slowly with his thumb. “I want him here. With us.”

Pepper seems to understand. She nods and she puts a hand on it too. Peter and her had gotten closer as the months went on. May and her were friends. They went out for brunch together. They did normal mom things.

But now? May was home, alone, wallowing in all that was gone.

“We should go to May. She deserves to know.” Pepper whispers, setting the picture down for him.

Tony clears his throat. “Agreed. I-I feel bad for not going before.”

“Don’t be,” she replies. “I went there a few days before you came back. She...she wanted to be alone.”

Tony nods and tries to hide the fact that he starting to cry. There was that awfully sad feeling stuck in his throat again.

“Hey,” a new voice appears. Happy. “Want me to drive?”

Happy had a look on his face that didn’t often come out. It was low and sad, bags under his eyes making him seem much,much, older. He missed Peter too. Everyone who had ever met him did.

“Sure, Hap. May might want to see you to.” Pepper supplies.

And with forced smiles, the three made their way to Queens.

The Parker residence was one of the only apartments in the complex that was still occupied. The only one on the entire floor with someone in it. But with a loss so great, things like rent and real estate weren’t of great importance.

So as Tony made his way down the dirty hallway, with Pepper and Happy right behind him, he can’t help but think...this is not worth Thanos’s plan. It never thought it was a good plan. He absolutely did not want it to happen. But the damage was so great that it was a shock to him. Thanos wasn’t an illogical being. He had a reason.

(It was such a stupid reason.)

So why was the cost illogical? It didn’t make sense. What did make sense? That Thanos was pure, lawful, unforgiving evil. And Tony wasn’t in the mood to deal with it anymore.

Tony knocks slowly on the door.

“May? It’s-It’s Tony.”

There’s russling behind the door before it opens slowly.

May Parker stood there in the doorway. She looked skinnier than ever, like there were days where she didn’t eat. The bags under eyes looked more like bruises. Her clothes were wrinkled and baggy. And yet, she still had a deep, dark, fire in her eyes.

“You’re alive,” is all she says. Tony slowly nods his head, taking Pepper’s hand in his.

“You doing alright?” Pepper asks her, reaching out her other hand. May takes it slowly, shaking slightly as her fingers curl into Pepper’s.

“I’m-I’m getting there,” she laments. “Do you guys want to come in?”

She backs up to lead the way, showing off the mostly empty apartment. Everything is clean, super clean, like it was all she ever did.

Tony watches as Pepper takes May in her arms, not unlike the way she did to him earlier. Happy stands solemnly and awkwardly in front of the closed door, while Tony finds himself with his hands stuffed in his pockets, looking distantly at the other pictures that the nearby shelf entails.

“You’ve been eating?” Pepper questions almost silently, hopeful the other men couldn’t hear. May nods slowly, and at Pepper’s raised eyebrow, she supplies: “I had some cereal this morning, I promise.”

Pepper gives her a small smile, taking both of May’s hand in hers.

“I’ve got some exciting news,” Pepper announces.

May tilts her head and returns the tiny smiles. “What is it?”

“We’re having a boy.”

May’s face broke into a mixture of excitement and pride, and Tony can see the tears form in her eyes.

“A boy?” She echoes through tears.

“You are?” Happy chirps from his place. Tony whips around to Happy, forgetting the didn’t tell him. The sides of his lips twist up just a little bit, but the grin was really all in his eyes.

“Yeah, he’s a boy. And…” Pepper put May’s hand on her stomach. “We wanted to name him Peter.”

May slowly lifts her head to meet Pepper’s eyes, a look of disbelief flashing all over her face.

Pepper beams. “Only if you consent to it, of course.”

“Consent?” May laughs. “Of course I consent!”

Tony decides to break in. “Well, that’s real good. Because you’re his godmother.”

It’s a spur of the moment decision, yet Pepper looks at him with agreement. May’s mouth opens slightly in surprise, but closes only seconds after. She looks like she’s about to sob, but she cuts it off with a smile.

Pepper wipes away the tears softly. Tony feels a pang of remorse for the woman strike his heart. She was young than him, but not by very much. She didn’t deserve to lose as much as she did. First the Parker’s, then her husband, and now...her son. Sure, nephew by law, but that was her son.

May takes a strangled breath and pulls herself together. “This is cause for celebration. Pep, come to the kitchen with me? I’ve got some cheese and crackers somewhere…”

The women’s chatter fades as Tony moves back towards Happy. He has a look on his face that Tony couldn’t quite place.

“What’s up , Hap?”

Happy looks up at him and sighs. “Nothing, nothing. It’s just sad. I guess.”

“I know,” Tony chokes. Goddamn lump in his throat. He swallows it down, along with the tears. He hates being on the verge of tears so often. He knows he’s no different from anyone else.

He makes another decision. “Hap, you want to be his godfather?”

Happy’s eyes winden. “Well, absolutely, Boss, but what about Rhodey?”

Tony had actually thought that one through. “Plan was to name him Peter Rhodes. I think that should suffice for Rhodey. And it sounds cooler than Peter James.”

Happy grins back at him. Tony claps him on the back as the ladies come back, arms full of food and a couple bottles of wine.

(And some iced tea for Pepper. She ain’t about to risk anything.)

So as Tony engaged with his found family members, drinking and eating and acting as if the air wasn’t still thick with dust and grief, the lump in his throat disappears.

Peter was dead. He knew that. He accepted that. But there was no accepting defeat.

There was a chance to win. A small one, yes. Maybe it wouldn’t even work. But there was enough hope in him that he couldn’t see a lose.

He saw them winning.

Whatever it takes.

#peter parker #tony stark #mcu #infinity war #spiderson #irondad #avengers endgame #pepperony #may parker #i wrote something!!!#fanfic #happy hogan #baby stark

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do-your-socks-have-holes-in-them · 5 years

Text

Til the End of the Night / Ch19: In which Patton saves the day, kind of

Previous / Masterpost / Next

Summary: it’s boss battle time lads

Warnings: mind control, blood, ??? i feel like i'm missing something tell me if i am

A/N: i think this story is actually going to be completed before the end of august omg

Taglist: @thegirlthatdoesntofficiallyexist

AO3

~ ~ ~

Patton may have been in a hurry, but that didn’t mean he was about to climb over that stupid wall again. No, as it turned out, there was this wonderful invention called a gate, and while it may have been locked, that was an easy enough problem to solve. He positioned himself just far enough from the gate that he wouldn’t be seen and briefly let go of the necklace to shake everything around in Logan’s bag, making an amount of noise the guard couldn’t possibly just ignore. Sure enough, he’d barely made himself invisible again when she came out to look around. She was still trying to convince herself it was possible that an animal had made that sound, and therefore, she didn’t have to investigate any further, when Patton snuck back over to the secret door behind the bushes and re-entered the castle. He did sort of hope she wouldn’t get in any trouble because of him… even if she was working for an evil witch, she’d been literally created to do that and didn’t really have a choice in the matter.

Good news: the throne room was on the first floor, so it shouldn’t be difficult to find. Even better news: it was extremely easy to find, because Patton could sense the sheer amount of magical energy concentrated in there. Not-so-good news: if there was that much magic in the air, it had to mean the ritual was progressing, and he’d better get there fast.

Patton was, as it happened, correct on this count. The ritual was in fact almost completed, with only two steps remaining. The final step was yet more recitation of magical words, which was a little anticlimactic, but the next-to-last step was where all the drama was at. Both participants- in this case, the Dragon Witch and Roman, of course- had to contribute a small amount of their own blood. See? Very dramatic, not to mention appropriate to the ritual’s purpose. Just to up the drama even further, the witch had elected to use Virgil’s confiscated dagger as the necessary sharp object for this step. Virgil did not seem to appreciate the neat irony of it all, and was struggling against the guards with all his strength in a futile attempt to break free and stop it. He’d been shouting, too, until the witch started getting a headache and silenced him with a wave. It took up nearly all the magic she had left over after pouring the majority of it into the ritual, but honestly, he was ruining her mirror-broadcast.

The witch made a small cut on her finger with the tip of the dagger and let one, two, three drops of blood fall onto the relevant runes. Logan put a hand on Virgil’s shoulder and squeezed until he calmed down- at this point, he was only wasting energy. The witch murmured a few words and began to pass the dagger to Roman, taking a breath to command him to do as she had just done…

And nearly dropped it when the doors flew open with a resounding crash, flooding the throne room with light. “Stop!”

It was Patton, of course, standing in the doorway with his arms spread in the universal gesture of either “don’t go any further” or “hug me.” The expression on his face suggested that, sensibly, he meant the former. The two guards who had been stationed at the doors lay unconscious on the floor behind him, along with an empty glass bottle. Virgil’s head shot up with a muted gasp. On the positive side, they actually had a chance again, but he really didn’t feel good about the amount of danger Patton was in right now.

The Dragon Witch stood from her throne, radiating fury. “How dare you interrupt me, I’ll destroy you!” Patton was already moving, trying to run to his friends, but he wasn’t quite fast enough to get away from her.

He did, however, manage to throw another of the potions in their direction before she took the last of her magic away from silencing Virgil and used it to hold him in place instead. Logan took a quick gasp of air and then held his breath, indicating to Virgil to do the same. They remained standing while the guards around them crumpled to the floor. The heroes shook out of their steadily loosening grip, and then pulled away to a safe distance to catch their breath.

“Don’t let this one get away,” the witch shouted to Roman, making short work of confiscating the remaining bottles in Patton’s cloak pockets and tossing them out into the hallway. As soon as Roman had taken hold of Patton, she released the magic restraining him and turned to deal with the other two. She couldn’t help but laugh at the murderous look Virgil gave her when she froze Logan before he’d fully recovered from breathing a bit of his own potion.

“Let them go, or else,” he growled, and she scoffed.

“Come on now, Sorcerer, do you really think you can do anything to me like this? Without your magic, you can’t possibly-”

Her words were cut off as Virgil demonstrated where she was wrong by full-on tackling her to the floor, because as far as he was concerned, there were no rules against throwing hands just because magic happened to be involved in the situation. It was enough to break her concentration so that Logan could move again, and he immediately ran over to Patton.

“I apologize for being unable to free you, but I may be able to help if I have my supplies back,” he whispered- probably unnecessary, since Roman himself was hardly going to react and the witch was otherwise occupied, but just to be safe.

Patton nodded in understanding as Logan began fumbling with the bag. “It’s okay, I’m not- he’s not hurting me or anything.” Fortunately, the length of the shoulder strap was adjustable in such a way that it could be taken apart, and he would be able to retrieve it without Roman’s hold on Patton’s arms getting in the way.

As it turned out, that didn’t matter, because a second later Roman was given a new command along the lines of “Get this madman away from me!” and released him regardless.

Roman seized the back of Virgil’s robes and practically threw him away from the witch, just as he’d wrested his dagger back from her and was about to try using it. Patton rushed over to keep him from falling, what with not being able to use his arms for balance properly, and Logan pulled them both back to a slightly safer distance and pulled out his lockpicks. There would hopefully be enough time to get Virgil’s hands and magic free while the witch got back to her feet.

Virgil shifted impatiently as he worked, which didn’t actually help to speed up the process in the slightest. “Hurry up!”

“I am doing the best I can under the circumstances,” Logan responded testily. “Perhaps if you would stop moving-”

“Guys!” Patton interrupted them with an urgent tug on their sleeves. “I think you’re going to have time, at least… look at what she’s doing.”

They looked. Well, Virgil did, anyway; Logan was still a bit busy and only glanced from the corner of his eye. The Dragon Witch had pulled Roman with her to the opposite side of the room and was making use of what magic she had left, placing a protective barrier around where the ritual was set up. Logan, despite only seeing it for a second, groaned internally for about five- he’d been planning to go after that as soon as they had regrouped. On the other hand, it also meant she wouldn’t be able to finish the ritual without removing that shield, so it wasn’t the end of the world… he just needed to recalculate.

It wasn’t until the handcuffs clicked open and Logan looked up again that he realized what else she’d done. There was not only a shield around the ritual, but one around the entire room: no one would be coming in to interrupt them, and no one was getting out until this was settled. There went the part of his new plan that involved shoving Patton out into the hallway to stay invisible and safe while they fought the witch.

“Heroes!” The Dragon Witch finished sealing the throne room off from the rest of the castle and called across the room to them with perfect timing, just as Virgil shook the handcuffs to the floor with a look of scorn. “Turn and face me, unless you wish to surrender!”

“We’re not surrendering to you!” Patton shouted back to her, accompanied by his fiercest look. It didn’t come across as very fierce, sort of like a kitten trying to be a lion, but he did try. “Give us Roman back!”

“Hmm… I don’t think so.” Rather than hand him over, she turned to him and smirked. “My dear Prince Roman, why don’t you… oh, I don’t know, throw them across the room or something.”

Roman lifted a hand, otherwise remaining stiff and expressionless. A second later, the room around them changed shape, decorative pillars appearing right where they were standing. The world did not appreciate having two things occupy the same space. Virgil managed to yank Patton and himself out of the way before anything could solidify, but Logan, preoccupied with other thoughts, wasn’t quick enough. The newly formed pillar rejected him, and he would have been flung into the hallway if not for the barrier over the door. The others rushed to make sure he was okay- fine, he said, although more than a little sore. His body didn’t appreciate briefly having its matter combined with a chunk of stone.

The witch was very pleased with herself. “Can’t you see it’s hopeless? Even if I don’t have the power yet, the prince here bends the very fabric of reality to his will. You can’t win, little heroes.”

Logan coughed, allowing Patton to move in and heal him. “She has no magic left,” he realized out loud. “She used it all on these barriers. That’s why she’s relying on him.”

“Sure, but she still has Roman,” Virgil hissed without turning around. He was hoping that if he didn’t break eye contact, the witch wouldn’t do anything to them for long enough to get Logan back on his feet. “We’re still dead.”

“Not necessarily. It seems as though she can only use his power by giving him spoken commands. Not only does this give us a second’s warning of whatever she does, it also means that if we can only cut him off so that he can’t hear her, she won’t be able to command him anymore. I believe that if-”

The Dragon Witch cleared her throat pointedly. She did not appreciate being ignored by people who were supposed to be losing a fight against her. “Hello? Enough chitchat, are you going to be sensible and give up or am I going to get to destroy you?”

Patton finished healing and turned around to face her again. Logan noted the sweat on his brow, the careful way he held himself, and why did he keep pulling the edges of his cloak around himself like he was cold? It could have simply been overexertion of his magic, what with all the invisibility, but… Logan decided he’d better keep an eye on him, just in case there was something else going on. For now, he gave him a hand as the three stood up.

Virgil had been glaring at her this entire time, and he wasn’t going to stop now. “If we’re gonna fight, let’s fight already,” he shouted- it came across rather confidently, but in reality he was just sick of the suspense.

The witch smiled. “Oh, I was hoping you’d say that.” She grabbed Roman’s arm and pulled him forward, placing him between herself and the heroes. “I don’t care how you do it, Prince Roman- look at that, you get to use your imagination- but by any means necessary, I want those three defeated.”

A familiar sword materialized in his hand, and he took on a fighting stance. Virgil mirrored him with his dagger, standing in front of the other two, while Logan reached for something in his bag and Patton wished he could do something other than just look worried.

“Well, what are you standing there waiting for? Get on with it! Fight!”

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #platonic lamp #my post #my writing #til the end of the night

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